The Great Mouse Detective 2: A New Beginning
by The Mouse Avenger
Summary: UNDER REVISION ONCE AGAIN! Chapter 4 now up! My sequel to Disney's classic film which I intend to actually get made by Disney. Reviews & criticism are welcome & encouraged, but be nice.
1. Prologue: A Cry In The Night

**THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE 2: A NEW BEGINNING  
**A "_Great Mouse Detective_" Fanfiction By The Mouse Avenger

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Ladies & gentlemice...what you are looking at is the (hopefully) final edition of my unofficial "_Great Mouse Detective_" sequel "_A New Beginning_", which, as of 2011, is slowly (but surely!) reaching completion after over 8 years of extensive revising & editing. I want to thank everyone who has read & reviewed this story (with the exception of a few flamers) for their praise, their constructive criticism, & their words of encouragement & support (if not love) for "_A New Beginning_", which otherwise wouldn't have become what it is today. Kudos to all of you!

Now, keep in mind that you are reading the _fanfiction_ version of "_A New Beginning_". Yes, my friends, there _is_ another version of the sequel—that which I intend to sell to Disney. (You didn't think I was gonna give up, did you?) I regret to inform the fans of this story that some changes were made to "_A New Beginning_" in the "Disney draft", & one in particular is that there's no Month Of Change or new technology (&, subsequently, no Anya). Admittedly, it was hard for me to make that decision, but, hopefully, it might "up the ante" & increase my chances of getting "_A New Beginning_" made by the Walt Disney Company when I (hopefully) join their studios, & pitch the idea to them. But even so, I'd greatly appreciate it if you wished me luck on my potential mission, or at least commended me for pursuing this visionary idea which I so desperately yearn to make a paint-&-ink reality one day. That's all an aspiring animator can do.

As it stands, though, when you leave a review on "_A New Beginning_", try to remember that you're leaving feedback on a _fanfiction_ that's more of a _springboard_ for my cinematic idea, rather than the idea itself. _(wink)_ Nonetheless, I do hope you enjoy the (fanfiction version of the) story, & as long as you do not flame or leave nasty comments, you can otherwise review it however you wish, be it through simple comments, constructive criticism, words of absolute adoration, gushing praise, or whatever floats your proverbial boat. And I also hope, if only for the sake of the fanfiction, that after you're done reading, you might become a fan of "_A New Beginning_", & even add this to your list of favorite "_Great Mouse Detective_" fan-stories (literally &/or figuratively). This is not necessarily a requirement of all my readers, but it would be nice.

And, now, for a (not-so-brief) copyright & disclaimer...

All "_Great Mouse Detective_" characters, elements, & properties © Disney. And although I'm hoping that the following characters might also become property of Disney one day (hint-hint), they are currently © The Mouse Avenger (that's me):

Madame Elizabella Ratburn  
Pias Nestor  
Flip Le Bouffon  
Anya DeWalters  
Old Mouse Porter  
Constable Scott McBrusque (who is slightly modeled after Chief McBrusque from the third "_American Tail_" movie)  
Miriam Richards  
"Jaywalk" James Clarke  
Olga Mousekewitz  
Sergei Alexei Andrei Korsmakoff, alias Agent 001  
Eunice Karlin  
Shellington Batly  
Mouses Fiennes  
Miss Leesha, Mr. Gordon, & their four mouselings (Doug, Fran, Russell, & Wendy)  
Grandma Kayley & Grandpa Malcolm Flaversham  
Cousin Timmy Flaversham  
Mother Mary Caulfield  
P.R. Altoid  
Josie & Jenny Richardson  
All the members of the Merchiorre family  
Amergin Burgess  
Nate Gregson  
Professor Phineas Doppler  
Professor Carl Gibson  
Bessie Colemouse  
Cecelia & Martino Green  
Chutzpah The Squirrel  
Coucou Cacheau  
Monsieur Victor Claudius  
Sophocles Braveheart  
Evian Anderson  
Takumi Mitsubishi  
Cecil B. DeMont  
Madame Angelina Flaherty  
Captain Amelia Gripling  
Sergeant Howard Bloomsbury  
General Cato Woodsey  
Lieutenant John Ranier  
George & Chester Cheeseman  
"Slick" Willie Ford  
Jellybean Jameson  
Larry Grossmouse  
Victoria Holmesington  
Melissa Mousechester  
Henry & Blanca Mousini  
Baby Fuschia Holmesington

The following characters are based on minor or bit characters who appear in the original GMD, & thus technically belong to Disney, but I claim ownership to the names & personalities I created for them:

**Jemediah Fieldson** (the old mouse with the broken leg who tells Ratigan off during the Diamond Jubilee scene)

**Walker DeBeaumont** (one of Ratigan's thugs who appear during the "World's Greatest Criminal Mind" song-scene—he's the one standing closest to Ratigan's right when the thugs sing "You mean it?")

"**Snotty" Sam Fitzgerald** (one of Ratigan's thugs who appear during the "World's Greatest Criminal Mind" song-scene—he's the one standing farthest from Ratigan's right when the thugs sing "You mean it?")

**Bill The Lizard, Red Robertson, & Ernest "Snakes" Henshaw** (the three thugs who are often seen hanging out together)

"**Gunsmoke" Gary Mousedale** (one of Ratigan's thugs who appear during the "World's Greatest Criminal Mind" song-scene—he's the one standing on Ratigan's right, between Walker & Snotty Sam, when the thugs sing "You mean it?"; he also appears in the part where the thugs are seen cheering after Ratigan ends the song's opening monologue, & whenever the thugs are shown reacting to Ratigan's 'sob story')

**Terry & Thomas Farrell** (two of Ratigan's thugs who appear during the "World's Greatest Criminal Mind" song-scene—they appear with Bill in his first shot, while Ratigan starts talking to the thugs about his plan [Terry's the muscular mouse whacking a club in his paw, & Thomas is the stout mouse holding a beer mug])

"**Peewee" Pete Colemouse** (one of Ratigan's thugs who appear in the scene where the bad guys are all laughing at Basil—he's the shrimpy thug in blue, seen standing next to Red & Bill, after we cut away from Fidget)

"**Manchester" Maurice Favell** (doesn't appear in the movie, but _does_ appear in the GMD storybook in place of his brother Bartholomew)

"**Old Blind Joe" McDowell** (one of Ratigan's thugs who is seen on Felicia's back in the scene where Ratigan reveals his plan—he's the thug sitting up front, with the eye patch)

**Cathy Sheridan** (the poker-playing lady who blows smoke in Dr. Dawson's face at the Rat Trap)

**Mrs. Deborah Wellington & her son Joey** (two of the mice in the crowd of Jubilee attendees at Buckingham Palace—they're the mother mouse in blue & the little boy with the beanie on his head, respectively)

**Sophie Winterley** (one of the mice in the crowd of Jubilee attendees at Buckingham Palace—she's the plump, blonde-haired mouse in blue with the purple umbrella)

**Ben Flaherty** (one of the mice in the crowd of Jubilee attendees at Buckingham Palace—he's the red-haired mouseling in the mustard-colored jacket, seen in the first shot of Jemediah Fieldson)

**Evelyn Rosedale** (the barmaid at the Rat Trap)

**Auburn Patterson** (the bartender of the Rat Trap)

**Don The Pianist** (one of the members of the Rat Trap Band)

**Arnie The Drummer** (same as above)

**Morey The Trumpet-Player** (same as above)

**Tom The Trombonist** (same as above)

**Jerry The Guitar Player** (same as above)

**Jiggy The Juggling Octopus** (one of the entertainers at the Rat Trap)

**Rosie The Ribbiter** (the fat frog with the bowler & cane who serves as one of the Rat Trap entertainers—&, yes, before anyone asks, I changed the character's gender)

**Ned The Newt** (the skinny little fellow at the Rat Trap who's seen riding on the unicycle [& struggling to carry Rosie at the same time!])

Please be sure to ask for my permission before using the characters listed above, & if you do so, I will be more than happy to let you use them in your stories &/or roleplayings.

And, now, ladies & gentlemice, without further ado, I present to you...the final (fanfiction) version of "_The Great Mouse Detective 2: A New Beginning_"!

_(Imaginary theater curtains go up, as the 20__th__ Century Fox theme begins to play...but, of course, this is a fanfiction for an entirely-different company, so the music instantly switches to the Walt Disney Pictures logo theme.)_ Blasted stereo system...

(All right, _now_, we begin, folks! Happy reading!)

* * *

Prologue:

A Cry In The Night

_**Wednesday, July 22, 1897**_

Madame Elizabella Ratburn woke up with a startled gasp, bolting upright in the cot that she had been sleeping in. The elderly mouse-rat hybrid [1] cast quick glances to the left & right of her, breathing heavily at a rapid rate; her pulse & heartbeat accelerated with the adrenaline that surged through her veins, bringing her out of the state of sleepiness that had once occupied her senses. Then, when Madame Ratburn finally took notice of her surroundings, her breathing became much slower & steadier, & her body began to gradually relax with each second that passed. After Madame Ratburn had fully managed to calm her nerves, she took another look around the humbly-decorated interior of the wagon where she made her home...before her blue eyes locked upon the crystal ball that rested upon a simple table (covered in a draping silk cloth with golden-tassled fringes) in the middle of the chamber.

The enchanted orb showed no signs of activity. There was no turquoise smoke floating around inside the crystal ball, no images appearing in the haze, not even a faint glow emanating from the surface...& to Madame Ratburn, this was _very_ strange. Considering the fact that she had just been afflicted with an otherworldly vision, the Gypsy psychic had to wonder, _Why isn't my crystal ball picking up on this paranormal sign? At least, I would expect it to..._

Madame Ratburn's thoughts were suddenly interrupted when she heard a noise—a loud scream of animalistic rage that pierced the silence of the twilight, seeming to echo across every street & rooftop, as the bells of Big Ben chimed the hour...The next 10 seconds that passed seemed like a small eternity to Madame Ratburn, as her rat-like ears continued to be bombarded with that single, solitary sound—that lone cry in the night—until, almost as soon as it had begun, the screaming came to a swift stop, Big Ben's last chime faded in the air, & silence fell over the town once again.

No sooner did Madame Ratburn begin to reflect upon her recent experience, than a strange sensation rushed over her like a gust of cold air, attacking her bones with a merciless chill that made her teeth chatter. Shivers escaped from Madame Ratburn's mouth, as she wrapped her blankets tightly around herself, hoping it would ward off the cold...but when it didn't, the ancient clairvoyant soon started to realize that something was not quite right.

As if to confirm those thoughts, Madame Ratburn's crystal ball started to glow, its smooth surface radiating with a pale, ghostly luminescence. The owner of that otherworldly orb smiled in satisfaction when she saw what was happening. _About time! _she thought to herself, as she rose from her bed, gently lifted herself up into the air, & floated over to the single chair that rested next to her table. Upon taking her seat in said chair, Madame Ratburn leaned in towards the crystal ball, waving her wizened paws over the glass globe, as she goaded the spirits from the other side [2] to tell her everything they had to say...

Before long, the crystal ball became filled with hazy clouds of that turquoise smoke, which whirled & swirled about for several seconds, churning like choppy ocean waters in a seastorm...& then, seemingly out of nowhere, the first of a series of visions began to appear in the mist—faintly at first, but gradually becoming more & more vivid. Madame Ratburn's eyes lit up with interest, as she saw the animated image playing out like a scene from a stage production; it showed a young rat, who had been falling through the sky, being caught by two bats, who safely brought him down towards the west bank of the Thames River.

Upon taking a closer look at the figures, Madame Ratburn gasped when a wave of recognition hit her; she _knew_ those rodents! They were none other than Professor Ratigan & two of his finest employees, Eunice Karlin & Shellington Batly! [3] But what on Earth were they doing in this part of Mouse London, & why had Ratigan been falling from Big Ben? Madame Ratburn soon got an answer (or, at least, part of it) when the crystal ball switched to an image of Basil Of Baker Street, her long-time friend & comrade (& occasional employer), flying up towards a homemade hot-air balloon in what looked like some kind of primitive helicopter... [4] As soon as Madame Ratburn put two & two together, she figured that Basil & Ratigan had just gotten into a fight on Big Ben, with both of them tumbling off the hour hand of the clock tower as the titanic timepiece was striking 10:00, & while the ever-clever Basil managed to save himself by pedaling on the propeller that served as his makeshift helicopter, Eunice & Shellington came just in time to prevent Ratigan from falling to what would otherwise have been a dreadful death on the streets below. But that was all that Madame Ratburn was able to figure out, for as soon as she saw Basil reuniting with three other mice on the platform of the hot-air balloon, the image in the crystal ball faded away, & the glass globe became dark & lifeless once again, its turquoise smoke gradually dissipating into oblivion.

As she rose from her seat to float back towards her bed, Madame Ratburn thought to herself, _Well, that explains the vision I had of Basil & Ratigan fighting before I woke up, & that scream I heard soon afterward! But I'd still like to know what everyone was doing at Big Ben on a night like this! After all, shouldn't Basil & those other mice be attending the Diamond Jubilee celebration? And shouldn't Ratigan be with his thugs at their hideout, coming up with some diabolical scheme? Or, maybe, there's something fishy going on, & this has to do with all those odd visions I've been getting for the past couple of weeks... _[5]

Madame Ratburn's thoughts were abruptly interrupted when she became alert to the sudden sensation of falling, & with what little energy she had left in her body, she managed to slow herself down, so that she would land safely on the mattress of her bed. As she came down onto her cot, Madame Ratburn felt utterly drained & exhausted...& it was no surprise, considering that she had been very busy today; all day long, up until the time of the Diamond Jubilee celebration, rodents from all parts of Mouse London—& even a few out-of-towners—had flocked to her, hoping to have their fortunes told, their palms read, or whatever else they desired. And the more Madame Ratburn used her psychic powers, the more tired she felt when her body ran out of the energy it needed to use those powers...&, subsequently, the more tired Madame Ratburn felt, the more sleep she needed in order to regain all that lost energy. Otherwise, if she tried to do any tasks of an otherworldly nature, she would quickly become too exhausted, & not be able to use her magic effectively. [6]

_And if I'm going to be able to function tomorrow,_ Madame Ratburn decided, _I need to go back to sleep right away! The energy I got from my last few hours of sleep won't be enough to last me all morning, let alone all day! _With that, Madame Ratburn promptly lay her head on her pillow, curling up under her blankets as she quietly drifted off to slumber; her rat-like tail twitched every now & again as she slept soundly for the duration of the night, her medium-length nose-whiskers being blown back & forth by the air going into her nose (& out of her mouth) as she snored lightly...

* * *

[1] Before anyone brings up the topic of inter-species crossbreeding, I thought I should let you know that normal rules of genetics do not apply to certain alternate universes, such as the one in which our story takes place...&, for that matter, I don't think those rules always apply to _our_ particular universe, either, especially when you consider the miracles of mules, science laboratories, & whatnot (but that's a whole 'nother ball game, isn't it, folks?).

[2] No, I wasn't intentionally making a reference to Dr. Facilier's song from "_The Princess & The Frog_" (awesome as it is!).

[3] Believe it or not, Eunice & Shellington have their own roles to play in the story of the original film, & that's part of the reason why they're out flying on the night of the Diamond Jubilee (& how they managed to stumble across Big Ben at such an opportune time!). My upcoming tie-in fanfic, "_Bat Patrol_", will explain this in further detail.

[4] Sometimes, Basil will enlist Madame Ratburn's help on a case, when he is unable to get ahold of more tangible leads, or otherwise needs aid or assistance that he can't get from ordinary fursons or with conventional means.

[5] In the days leading up to Queen Mousetoria's Diamond Jubilee, a great deal of unusual & puzzling images appeared in Madame Ratburn's mind, providing warning signs of things that were to come, but these visions appeared in sporadic intervals, & ultimately didn't give her a clear-enough picture of the events that would eventually unfurl on this fateful night.

[6] Alas, even the best of rodent super-psychics have their limitations...

One other note: since I'm juggling college & R.L. with my never-ending list of personal projects (including a book of poetry about the Jonestown tragedy that I hope to have published)—& also in the process of moving everything on one of my laptops to a new computer—I won't be able to update as frequently as I normally do, but rest assured that I _will_ post new chapters as soon as they're completed.


	2. Chapter 1: Otherworldly Circumstances

**THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE 2: A NEW BEGINNING  
**A "_Great Mouse Detective_" Fanfiction By The Mouse Avenger

Chapter 1:  
Otherworldly Circumstances

_**Saturday, August 22, 1897**_

Not much time had passed after the Flaversham Case; in fact, it had only been a month since the great feat of Basil Of Baker Street. Pias Nestor coughed on the dust & dirt that filled the air, which was thick & heavy in the stifling summer heat, as he limped through a sand-saturated quarry in the West End of London. The quarry, which had been closed off to humans, was only barricaded by barriers of rope, which made it easy for little critters like Pias to sneak in when they wanted to take a shortcut to Regents Park. Being crippled in his right leg, Pias couldn't walk very well—let alone for overly-long distances—& the street he was on provided the quickest way to Regents Park; through _this_ avenue, he could walk from the Mouse Gypsy Caravan to the park in a _quarter_ of the amount of time it would take to use any other road! Not even the humans' construction work would stop Pias from reaching his destination—the middle-aged Mouse Gypsy was going to get to that bloody park, by Gods, & he was _not_ going to inconvenience himself by taking any of the longer routes, because his crippled leg couldn't take that kind of strain...& quite frankly, neither could _he_.

Doing his best to avoid the crushing feet of the human workers (along with any objects that fell to the ground), Pias tried to maneuver his way through the quarry, as fast as his legs & wooden walking cane could carry him. All the while, however, he continued to cough on the dusty air, hoping he could get out of the sandpit before he completely lost his ability to breathe! Thankfully, after a few minutes, Pias was able to make his way out of the quarry, & as soon as he stepped out onto the cobblestones lining the street, he took a deep breath of air...& nearly gagged on the noxious stench of coal, oil, & other chemicals that was wafting from the nearby mouse factories. Gods, how much Pias yearned to breathe the fresh, clean air that once filled the atmosphere! How he wished he could go back to a time when the sunny skies of Mouse London weren't filled with smelly stenches & suffocating soot!

That infernal Industrial Revolution was to blame...It, & it alone, was the reason why Mouse London was being so dirtied up! Not to mention that it was causing a lot of social problems, as well! All the stories he had heard about mouse orphans being forced to work in sweatshops, about factory-made products causing injury & harm to consumers, about industrial labor being used as a way to exploit the rodent natives of faraway countries...it was almost too much for Pias to stomach. There was no doubt in his mind that Mouse London was well on its way to a dystopian future; next thing he knew, they would be making awful war machines, rodents who worked in simpler trades (including farmers & gardeners like Pias) would all be put out of business, & the desire for industrial progress would wipe out all desire for _social_ progress! And those things weren't even the _worst_ of what Pias feared would await the mouse world...

...but, as he stepped onto the grassy green of Regents Park, the Mouse Gypsy gardener's frown changed into a smile, as he took another breath...& smelled fresh, clean air, for once! Pias couldn't resist smelling that air over & over again, as he walked across the park green, enjoying the warmth of the sunshine & the sight of the flowers that filled the landscape. All around him, he could see rodent children playing together—a sign of the _better_ changes that were sweeping through the mouse world—while their mommies & daddies watched on lovingly from their seats on pint-sized park benches. Clowns & other entertainers performed for the pedestrians & park-goers who passed by, while proud parents paraded their babies down the cement walkways in stroller-type carriages, & teenagers tried to sneak kisses with their lovers behind tall trees. The scenes that were playing out in the park were pleasant to behold, indeed...but Pias _really_ had his eye on one particular area, right next to a large hedge maze.

This part of the park was known to local rodents as the "Pigeon Patch"; the reason it got its name was because a multitude of pigeons flocked here every day, & although there were also plenty of pigeons in Trafalgar Square (where the Mouse Gypsy Caravan was), Pias liked to come to the Pigeon Patch, because it was in a nice little part of Mouse London, he really liked the atmosphere, & it was a lot safer to wrangle a pigeon _here_ than in Trafalgar Square, what with all those humans walking around...

Every day, Pias would come to the Pigeon Patch to look for a specimen to take back home; there, he would enlist the pigeon's help in plucking the worms out of the Mouse Gypsy Caravan's garden, where he grew fruits & vegetables for all his friends to eat. Not earning any money for his work (unlike the street performers & craftsmice who lived in the caravan), Pias could not afford to buy gardening gloves...but touching dirt & soil with the bare paws was against the Mouse Gypsies' code of cleanliness, & Pias didn't want to get in any trouble with the council of elders (much less risk getting banished from the caravan!). [1] That, & the fact that plucking a worm by paw was an _extremely_ disgusting job...So, Pias always went to the Pigeon Patch to seek the help of a fine flying friend in getting the worms out of the garden. (Hey, as long as a pigeon did the job, it wasn't technically against the Mouse Gypsy Caravan's rules, right?)

After reaching the Patch, Pias began looking around for a good specimen...& before too long, he found the perfect pigeon to help him out in the garden! Pias smirked craftily, as he reached out his arms, & prepared to wrangle the pigeon...but no sooner did he make a huge leap to grab the bird by his leg, than the pigeon became startled, & started flying around the Patch in a mad frenzy, cooing fearfully as he tried to shake Pias off of him. Pias, undaunted & undeterred, tried his best to maintain his hold on the pigeon, but he found it becoming increasingly hard to do so with each second that passed. At one point, Pias managed to look up, & saw a moustached mouse in motley-colored clothing approaching him on a unicycle. It was one of Mouse London's local street performers, a Frenchmouse affectionately referred to as Flip Le Bouffon. _He must be entertaining at Regents Park today, _Pias thought when he saw the clown coming his way. _But if he's come to strike up a chat with me, he's picked the wrong time to do it! I need to concentrate on wrangling that bloody pigeon..._

Flip gave his characteristic smile, as he waved a friendly paw to Pias in greeting. "_Bonjour, mon ami!_" he said in French, before adding in English, "It's a pleasure to see you today, Pias! I hope you're..." Flip suddenly halted in mid-sentence when he saw his Mouse Gypsy friend trying desperately to hold onto the leg of a large pigeon...& from the looks of it, he didn't think Pias was going to be able to keep his grip for much longer. Wondering if there was anything he could do to help his comrade, Flip asked in concern, "Pias, are you having some trouble with that pigeon?"

"Don't worry, Flip," Pias tried to assure the clown, struggling to keep from being bucked off that bloody bird he wanted to wrangle. "I'm fine! I can handle it myself!"

"Are you _sure _you don't need my assistance?" Flip asked warily, dubious about Pias' assurances.

"No, no, Flip," Pias insisted, "it's all right...Really!"

To be perfectly honest, Flip wasn't sure that he should entirely believe Pias...but he went along with him, anyway. "Oh, _très bien_," he finally said with some hesitancy, "fine...if you say so." After a beat of silence, Flip added, "Well, I best be going, Pias. My public awaits." Pivoting around on his unicycle, Flip began pedaling away to join the other street performers at Regents Park, & as he made his exit, he waved "goodbye" to Pias, & said with a merry smile, "_Au revoir_ _et adieu_ for now, Pias! Hope to see you later!"

"Yes, yes, of course, _adieu_, Flip!" Pias replied, before turning back to his business at hand—er, paw. The struggle between Pias & the pigeon continued for several minutes...until the pigeon finally ended up winning, & flew away, leaving Pias sprawled out on the grass. After letting out a minced oath, Pias reached for his cane, then got up onto his feet, & began looking around for another pigeon to wrangle...but before he could spot another specimen, Pias paused to listen to the sound of faint whistling. When the Mouse Gypsy gardener looked up towards the sky, in the direction that the sound was coming from, he saw something most unusual. Something that looked like a glowing green comet or asteroid...& it was heading right for Regents Park!

Pias scrambled to get out of the way, & after dashing madly across the green, he dropped to his knees on the ground, & covered himself protectively with his arms, bracing himself for a potential collision...but, thankfully, the comet-type object did not hit him; instead, it landed into a bush that was a few mouse yards away from the Pigeon Patch, with a plume of gray smoke rising in its wake. Slowly, timidly, Pias got back up onto his feet, with his cane in paw, & started to make his way towards the bush, curious to see what was going on...but, suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, as his ears perked up to a strange sound—a haunting, hollow, almost-liturgical moan that sounded very much like it was coming from a chorus of disembodied, monotonous voices—that was carried in the air around him, filling his soul with a deep, unsettling feeling...

_Pias...Pias..._

Upon hearing his name being called by a faraway voice, the elderly Mouse Gypsy took his cane, turned around, & began running out of Regents Park. He ran down the street he had travelled earlier, passing through the quarry, & did not stop until he reached Trafalgar Square. When he got there, he wasn't surprised to see a sea of humans strolling across the sunlit square, dressed in the height of Victorian fashion from head to toe, as they paraded through the plaza in their usual pomp & circumstance. Pias had to be careful not to get crushed by the humans' feet, as he made his way through the crowd to reach the destination that lay not too far ahead of him...

At the base of the towering statue known as Nelson's Column, unseen by the humans, was a small group of differently-painted covered wagons. This was the home of the Mouse Gypsy Caravan—a Bohemian band of outcasts, oddballs, outsiders, & other rodents who lived at the margins of mainstream mouse society, managing to make ends meet (&, yet, living by their own means) as they travelled from city to city, town to town, village to village, in eternal search of a place they could collectively call their home...but to many fursons, it seemed that these Romani rodents had, indeed, found the home they'd been looking for. For the past several decades, the Caravan had remained at the base of Nelson's Column—never once leaving the spot it was fixed in—& ever since their arrival into London, the Mouse Gypsies had lived & thrived on the cobblestone-lined grounds of Trafalgar Square, even after their human counterparts left for another land...& unless something drastic forced the Mouse Gypsies to change their minds, they intended to stay here for the rest of all eternity!

There were several reasons behind the Mouse Gypsies' permanent plans to remain in Mouse London, but one in particular had to do with the fact that they had become part of the citizenry, officially _&_ unofficially; they continually interacted with the micefolk of the city, they were usually treated very kindly by the Englishrodents, they were being included in the annual mouse census, & Queen Mousetoria had even given the Mouse Gypsies a royal order of protection from acts of racism, ethnocentrism, or bigotry. [2] And with the recent passage of Her Majesty's Code Of Social Ethics, Tolerance, & Brotherhood, the acceptance of the Mouse Gypsies by the British community was destined to never waver...Yet another sign of the positive social changes that had been sweeping through the mouse world for the past few decades! But Pias was beginning to have his doubts about how long this stage of progress would last, for if his fears turned out to be true, & the Industrial Revolution _was_ bringing mouse society to ruin, then all those attempts to instill tolerance & brotherhood would amount to nothing!

_Hopefully, Madame Ratburn can provide some answers to my questions, _Pias thought to himself, as he made his way onto the grounds of the Mouse Gypsy Caravan. The place was a busy, bustling hive of activity! The air was alive with melodies of old Bohemian folk-tunes, as sounds of laughing, chattering, talking, & other noises resonated through the summer breeze. Mouselings in traditional Gypsy clothing were running about, chasing each other, playing with toys & games, & getting into mischief, while teenagers flirted, joked around, & gaily socialized with their friends (mostly conversing in their native Romani language, but with a few adolescents speaking English, as well). Many of the youths' fathers, mothers, & other adult relatives worked diligently at sewing, painting, sculpting, weaving baskets, & numerous other forms of labor, which they performed with great craft & care. And still other Mouse Gypsies juggled, did song-&-dance routines, performed magic tricks, & put on impromptu skits for the crowds of rodents that gathered around to watch them. Yes, it seemed that all of the Mouse Gypsies were out today...all except for one...

_(CUE MUSIC: "Neptune", from Gustav Holst's "The Planets")_

At the back of the caravan grounds, where Pias was headed, was a cherry-colored wagon. The outside of said wagon was decorated with mystical emblems (including stars, a stylized sun & crescent moon, & a rainbow, among others), along with brilliantly-colored paw-painted images of tarot cards, a crystal ball, & other fortune-telling items. A set of wind-chimes (crafted from pieces of stained glass) dangled from the eaves of the wagon cover, the tiny tubes tingling lightly as they swayed to & fro in the gentle breeze. A mint-turquoise sign outside the door of the wagon boasted the name of the place with ornate magenta text that said, "_Madame Elizabella Ratburn, Gypsy Psychic, Fortune-Teller, & Agent Of The Otherworldly_".

The inside of Madame Ratburn's wagon did not look _nearly_ as elaborate as the exterior did; the one-room dwelling displayed humble furnishings, with no paint or paper covering the walls, & no carpet or tiles adorning the bare wooden floor. The only items of furniture to be found in the chamber were a sleeping cot, an old mahogany desk & chair, a small dining table, a makeshift cooking area, a big bookcase, & a small, cloth-covered table (with a crystal ball placed on top of its surface) that was flanked by two plush chairs. With the curtains drawn over the wagon's single window, the only light that was visible was the dim glow of a melting candle. But Madame Ratburn needed no light to see; she knew exactly what she was writing. In her seat at the desk, the old sage sat, writing on the parchment pages of a big book with leather binding. As Madame Ratburn relaxed in her chair, she "mind-moved" a quill pen, psychically dipped it in ink, & began to write a most ominous poem...

_**The winds of change are flowing, strongly blowing  
**__**Through our little town  
**__**Our lives keep going, never knowing  
**__**Of the danger lurking 'round**_

_**The seeds of happiness are sown,  
**__**And loving hearts unite us all,  
**__**But there's a presence threatening  
**__**To bring about our utopia's fall...**_

A sudden rapping on the door brought Madame Ratburn out of her deep trance, & the pen dropped from the break in her concentration, landing on the open pages of the formerly-blank book she was writing in. Turning her head aside to face the entrance to her wagon, Madame Ratburn addressed the visitor who was standing outside: "The door's unlocked, Pias. You can come in." The door to the wagon then swung open with a creak, & Pias stepped in, supporting himself with his cane as he walked into the room, & approached Madame Ratburn.

"You called, Madame Ratburn?" Pias asked, as he limped towards the elderly psychic.

"Pias, do take a seat, if you wouldn't mind," Madame Ratburn said, getting up out of her desk chair as she telekinetically scooted one of the plush chairs up over to Pias, so he could sit down in it. "I have to discuss some very important matters with you."

Pias, deciding to make himself at home, took his seat in the chair that Madame Ratburn had offered to him. "What kind of matters?" Pias wanted to know, as he made himself comfortable in his friend's house.

"Psychic matters, of course," Madame Ratburn replied, sitting down in the plush chair opposite from Pias'. The crystal ball on the table was now juxtaposed between the two rodents, its glass surface illuminated by the gentle glow of the candlelight. "For the last month," Madame Ratburn told Pias, "I have been receiving a wide variety of visions, & they're telling me that changes are in the air. The mouse world is about to be twisted, transformed, warped into something much more different than it is right now, though whether it will change for better or worse has yet to be determined...

"The improvements in society that have been slowly, but surely, developing throughout the last few decades are only stepping stones to the start of this new era that awaits us. There is much more to come in the days ahead...but I am not entirely certain as to whether we should consider those things to be good or bad, for it all depends on how Mother Fate plays her proverbial cards. I may be able to predict the future, Pias, but I cannot always do so in a clear-cut fashion; sometimes, I can tell you all the details about everything that will happen on an exact date & time...& other times, I'll only get vague vignettes of visions—little snatches & snippets of things that might happen, but not exactly in the way my inner eye sees them...The paranormal forces are quite fickle & finicky, & they can be _very_ selective about what information they choose to provide me with. It all depends on otherworldly circumstances..." [3]

"Well, after taking the effects of the Industrial Revolution into account," asked Pias, "what direction would you think our world is heading in?"

Upon hearing this question, Madame Ratburn's expression became somber, & she said in a solemn tone-of-voice, "I have long feared that a movement like that would have detrimental or deleterious effects on mouse society. Ever since the Industrial Revolution kicked into high gear last month, we've been struggling & striving to bring our civilization into the future, but it appears that we are making a tremendous sacrifice for our ambitious endeavors to enter a new stage of existence, for our great city is slowly languishing in the process of industrialization...& that's not the only negative change that's afflicting our society. A bigger gap is being wedged between the lower & upper classes. Quantity of work is being valued more highly than quality of work. The land, air, & water are being tainted by pollution from city factories. Business-owners & employers are falling prey to the vices of power & corruption. Uncontrolled urban development comes with problems like overcrowding, poverty, & the spread of diseases. Women are receiving less pay than men—no matter how hard they work, or how well they do their jobs. I could go on & on, Pias, but doing so would just make me feel even _more_ distressed...& also make me feel less hopeful about the future, when I have no real reason to be.

"Despite these troubling signs I've mentioned," Madame Ratburn continued with an optimistic smile on her face, "I am quite sure that there's still a ray of hope shining through the dark clouds that hang over us now! Perhaps, the poker game of life will turn out in our favor...but we must remember that, sometimes, it is _us_—not Mother Fate—who are blessed with the winning cards. Thus, I am determined to make things better for my fellow rodents, & I will do whatever I can to make sure that happens! While an industrial revolution, in & of itself, is not an entirely-negative thing—& doesn't have to be—the problem is finding a balance between industrial & social progress...but how can I find that balance without everyone having to pay such a hefty price for the desire to move forward?"

"Don't worry, Madame Ratburn," Pias replied with an assuring smile. "I'm sure that you'll think of a way to do it."

"You may be right, Pias," Madame Ratburn said with a nod of her head...before adding, "But you didn't just come here to hear predictions...There's something you've been meaning to tell me, am I correct?"

Pias nodded in reply, then took a moment to take a deep breath, before exclaiming excitedly, "Madame Ratburn, something strange has hit London...in Regents Park!" No sooner did Pias say this, than he saw his friend grinning from ear to ear...& lifted an eyebrow in confusion. Normally, the Gypsy psychic would consult her tarot cards or her crystal ball whenever he gave grave news like this.

Madame Ratburn, however, didn't seem to think that the news was all that grave, for the broad smile never left her face for one second as she proclaimed joyfully, "Pias, this is the very sign we've been waiting for! This is the sign that will determine what direction our society will be heading in—& I've got a gut feeling that it's going to be a positive one!" Without wasting a moment, Madame Ratburn grabbed Pias by the paw, shouting merrily, "Come along, Pias! And quickly! We haven't a moment to lose!"

After disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke, Madame Ratburn & Pias teleported to Regents Park, where they reappeared in the same place Pias had been earlier. The pigeons were still flocking together in the patch, cooing & fluttering about as they paid no attention to the world around them. Turning to face Pias again as she took her paw off of his, Madame Ratburn asked, "So, this is where you saw the strange sign, right?"

"Right," Pias answered, nodding his head in affirmation. Then, gesturing to a far-off spot with his cane, he added, "And it landed...right over there." Madame Ratburn soon realized that Pias had witnessed the faraway object make a crash-landing in the depths of the Black Forest—a large grove of bushes that were so clustered & crowded together, that they seemed to resemble the German woodlands they were named after. The "forest" was notoriously thick & dense, & no sunlight could ever filter through the leaves of the "trees", leaving nothing but shade & shadows to fill the undergrowth (& this made the moniker of the Black Forest even more appropriate). Along with the Pigeon Patch, the hedge maze, & several other attractions, it was considered by rodents to be one of the most-renowned places in Regents Park, but those who dared to venture into its depths, _only_ did so during the daytime...for if one went into the Black Forest _at night,_ they might _never_ find their way back out!

Pias couldn't help but feel a little nervous at the thought of going into the Black Forest, but when he felt the gentle touch of Madame Ratburn's paw on his shoulder, his fears began to disappear, & he felt less uneasy about accompanying her in the search for the strange sign. "Lead the way, Madame Ratburn," Pias directed, as he followed his comrade to the entrance of the woods. After telekinetically pulling back a big branch, Madame Ratburn gestured for Pias to enter the Black Forest, & she soon went in after him, as the branch snapped back into place behind her, sealing the two rodents off from the outside world.

Once they had taken a few steps further into the Black Forest, Madame Ratburn & Pias began their search for the unusual object, hoping they could find it before noon. With Madame Ratburn's teleportation powers, leaving the Black Forest wasn't much of a problem...The problem was all the trouble that Pias' crippled leg gave him whenever he did extensive walking or exercise. And Pias had a feeling that that was _precisely_ what he was going to be doing...much to his chagrin. _Wherever this infernal sign is, _he prayed, _I hope it can't be too far away!_

* * *

About 30 minutes later, Madame Ratburn & Pias were still continuing their search through the Black Forest. However, Pias' weak leg was starting to feel heavy, & he didn't know if he could keep moving for much longer. "How long do you think it'll be until we find that bloody sign?" he asked in a haggard & weary voice.

"I think...we may have just found it!" Madame Ratburn replied with a confident grin, as she placed her paws on a couple of big branches jutting out from the "trunks" of two bushes. Pias went over to help Madame Ratburn pull back those branches, & after they'd moved them a good bit, the two rodents looked into the space that the limbs had once obscured from their view. Right in front of them, standing in a small clearing, was a tall, thin teenage mouse, positioned next to a strange vehicle that looked like something straight out of a Jules Verne novel.

Madame Ratburn & Pias gazed curiously at the stranger. She was covered in tan fur from head to toe, & her blazing red hair was tied in a large ponytail with a mint-turquoise silk ribbon. Her facial features included a prominent pink nose, a big white bucktooth, & a pair of bright green eyes that sparkled with a youthful gleam. She was dressed in a most-unusual ensemble that wouldn't have been considered appropriate for a young lady of the Mousetorian Age to wear—a pair of blue goggles was worn over her hair like a headband, while a matching pair of billowy blue "pumper-pants" covered her lower half, & a short-sleeved mint-turquoise dress with a golden waistband adorned her upper half. But she was wearing no corset, bustle, petticoat, or shoes! When they took notice of this, Madame Ratburn & Pias' facial expressions switched from those of curiosity to those of shock & surprise. The stranger, however, didn't seem to mind the looks she was being given. She just smiled, & said in a cleverly-counterfeited British accent, "Hello, old chaps! Lovely day in London, isn't it?"

For the next several seconds, neither Pias or Madame Ratburn said a word to the stranger...until, at one point, Madame Ratburn finally broke the silence, & asked, "Who are you?"

With a merry, melodious laugh that resonated through the air, the mysterious mousette sported a playful grin on her face, & countered Madame Ratburn's question with one of her own: "The question is, 'Who are _you__?_'"

Upon determining that the stranger meant no harm, Madame Ratburn gave a friendly smile, as she went over to approach her. After stopping to stand in front of the teenager, Madame Ratburn gave a grand bow as she introduced herself: "Madame Elizabella Ratburn, famous psychic, fortune-teller, & agent of the otherworldly, at your service!"

Much to Madame Ratburn & Pias' surprise, the stranger began circling the former, stroking her chin thoughtfully as she glanced her over, scrutinizing her with every step she took. After a few seconds, while continuing to walk around Madame Ratburn, the foreign furson finally said to her, "You're 89 years old, you're a Mouse Gypsy who originally hails from Cairo, you're a mouse-rat hybrid, & your favorite colors include green & purple...Am I right?"

Madame Ratburn could barely contain her astonishment! The stranger had guessed correctly on every point! "Why, you're entirely right!" she exclaimed. "You know, now that I think about it, you remind me of an old friend of mine...Basil Of Baker Street, the..."

Before Madame Ratburn could finish the statement, the stranger beat her to it: "...Great Mouse Detective? Of course, I know all about him! My grandfather told me all sorts of stories about Basil & his adventures!"

"Your grandfather?" Madame Ratburn echoed. "I think I know who he was—er, is! Jacob DeWalters of the Mouse Detective Agency?"

"_Ding-ding-ding,_" the stranger chimed cheerfully, before playfully poking Madame Ratburn on the snout as she added, "Right on the nose!" She couldn't help but giggle at her own joke...before finally composing herself, clearing her throat, & introducing herself, as well: "OK, so you know my last name is DeWalters, but my first name is Anya, & my middle name is 'Very Pleased To Meet You'!" Anya extended a paw to heartily shake Madame Ratburn's, as she added, "Well, all right, that last part was a joke...but I really am very pleased to meet you!"

"As am I, Anya," Madame Ratburn replied with a warm, pleasant smile, as she shook hands with her new acquaintance. After finishing & finally pulling her paw away from Anya's, the elderly psychic asked, "So, my child, what brings you here to Mouse London?"

"Well, if you must know," Anya answered, "I'm a stranger from the future..."

"Thank you," Madame Ratburn piped in, "but I already figured that out by your style of dress, your Verne-esque vehicle, & the fact that you mentioned Jacob DeWalters as your grandfather, even though he has yet to be married with _children_...But enough of my rambling! Do carry on."

"All right," said Anya. "Anyway, I'm a stranger from the future, & I've traveled to 1890's Mouse London in order to conduct an...experiment, if you will. You see, I want to find out whether or not creating a new technology for the Mousetorian Age will alter the future for better or worse. But I need someone to help me make all the wonderful inventions that rodents of my time use..."

Madame Ratburn gasped in delight. This was her chance to seize the opportunity to change the mouse world for the better! Quickly stepping over to Anya, Madame Ratburn said with a wide smile, "I would be more than happy to help you with your experiment, Miss DeWalters!"

"And your assistance would be greatly appreciated!" Anya replied, firmly clasping Madame Ratburn by the paw to give her another handshake. "We can get started right away, if you want! Just let me get my Time Car started up, & we can travel to your caravan at Trafalgar Square in no time flat!" [4]

"I look forward to that!" Madame Ratburn exclaimed excitedly, her eyes brightening at the very thought of it.

With that, Anya donned a pair of elbow-length golden gloves & a cream-colored pilot's scarf, before pulling her goggles down over her eyes, & going over to the vehicle she had used to transport herself to Mouse London. The Time Car—a blue-colored vehicle with a rather sleek design—actually looked a lot more like a rocket ship, with an open cockpit & passenger seats, a pair of large doors on either side, & jet-propelled turbine-boosters in the back. Anya opened the doors, allowing Madame Ratburn & Pias to make their way into the passenger area, & after taking her own seat in the cockpit, Anya took the controls. When everyone had buckled their seatbelts, Anya turned to face her new friends with a huge smile. "Everybody ready for take-off?" she asked. When Madame Ratburn & Pias nodded in affirmation, Anya's grin became more adventurous, as she turned her head back to face the dashboard, shouting, "Then let's sally forth!"

Almost immediately after Anya had pressed the "start" button on the control panel, the Time Car whirred to life, & lifted off, crashing through the canopy of the Black Forest as it ascended into the air. Madame Ratburn & Pias both braced themselves as they became introduced to the sensation of flying, feeling the rush of the wind against their fur...but after they got used to the ride, the two rodents both smiled as they looked out over the scenery whizzing beneath them, dozens of mouse miles below. Mouse London seemed so small from where they were, & the fursons & objects on the city streets looked like little toys. To Madame Ratburn, this was the greatest thing she had ever experienced in her whole life! Even with all the psychic powers she had at her disposal, Madame Ratburn could never have imagined that, decades from now, rodents would be making vehicles like the one she was riding in! And Anya said that she had all sorts of wonderful inventions to create for the new technology...Madame Ratburn simply couldn't wait to find out more about them, as soon as she & her friends got back to the Mouse Gypsy Caravan! In the meantime, however, the old sage was perfectly content to enjoy the ride home with Pias & Anya, throwing her arms up in the air with childlike glee, as she hooted & hollered happily all the while...

* * *

A half-hour later, Anya landed the Time Car in Trafalgar Square, & made her way onto the main grounds of the Mouse Gypsy Caravan with Madame Ratburn & Pias, who were eager to introduce her to their "family". After getting to know the other Mouse Gypsies, Anya finally bid them "farewell", & followed Pias & Madame Ratburn into the latter's wagon. After she & her friends had all entered the one-room chamber, Madame Ratburn magically produced a third plush chair, which joined the other two at her table. Then, she, Pias, & Anya all went over to sit down at said table, getting comfortable in their seats, while Madame Ratburn provided herself & her guests with a humble, but delicious, breakfast of steak, eggs, fruits, cheese pancakes with maple syrup, yogurt, & baked pastries (with glasses of chocolate milk to wash it all down). "Now," Madame Ratburn said to Anya as everyone began tucking into their morning meal, "why don't we begin our discussion about this new technology you have in mind?"

"Sure," Anya replied with a nod of her head, before continuing (with occasional pauses to take bites of her food), "& we can start with basic descriptions of all the inventions & concepts of modern conception! While we're eating, I think I should launch our 'meeting of great importance' with the topic of kitchen appliances, & then move on to other appliances, before discussing all the other inventions & stuff—I'll show you my diagrams & manuals after supper. Anyway, first, we have what's called a 'microwave'. Basically, it's like a small oven, only you use it for _heating_ food & drinks, as opposed to baking. The microwave has a heating device built into the machine, & there's a big plate inside that you put the food or beverage on. It has a big door with a little keypad on the side, & you can punch in the number of minutes &/or seconds that you want the food or beverage to be heated up by the microwave. The keypad also has programmed settings for things like making popcorn. But another thing you should know about microwaves, is that you should _never _put metal silverware in it..."

And, so, the conversations continued, as Anya went on to explain the wonders of "talkie" films, Technicolor, CDs, color pictures, boom-boxes, stereos, radios, PC computers & laptops, IPods, airplanes, rollerskates, skateboards, bikes & mopeds, electric lights (& electricity in general), automobiles, toasters, running water, indoor plumbing, videos, VCRs, DVDs, DVD players, processed food, preservatives, new kinds of musical instruments, & a whole bunch of other things too numerous to list...Before Madame Ratburn & Pias even knew it, it was already noon when Anya had gotten to the last invention she planned to introduce to Mouse London! "And, last, but not least," she said, "there's television, also known as 'TV' or 'the telly'. It's basically like a talking box with moving pictures, & it has different channels that play different shows or movies. You can manipulate it manually via the dials & buttons on the console...or you can be lazy, & use what's called a 'remote control', which has a bunch of buttons that you can press to enter the number of a channel, change the channel, change the volume, mute the volume, turn the TV off or on, & other things of that nature."

With the quill pen & notepad she held in her paws, Madame Ratburn made sure to write down every last bit of information, as she had done ever since the meeting started (although she did have to ask Anya to repeat her explanation of the microwave). After jotting down a few more facts & figures, Madame Ratburn finally asked Anya, "So, basically, as part of your time-altering project, you're saying that we will be both be required to invent TVs, talking movies, CDs, radios, color pictures, boom-boxes, stereos, computers, & all those other things that you've mentioned to me?" When Anya nodded in response, Madame Ratburn's face lit up with yet another big grin, as she exclaimed, "Those things are _perfect__!_ Just what we need for our new technology!"

"Well," Pias said with a smile on his own face, "if your experiment turns out favorably, I look forward to tasting the fruits of your proverbial labor! I simply can't wait to see how these changes will improve the lives of the micefolk of London as never before!"

"Don't forget the entire United Mouse Kingdom, along with the rest of the mouse world," Madame Ratburn told Pias with a waggle of her forefinger. "They're going to receive the same new technology as we are."

"Oh, well, congratulations to them!" Pias added pleasantly. "I only hope it won't take you very long to accomplish your goals."

"With the help of a mystical mouse with magic powers, the finest inventors of the Mousetorian Age, & an inventor, scientist, & engineer from the future," Anya replied with a wink, "not to mention feedback & suggestions from citizens, it shouldn't take more than a month for us to get the new technology started. Of course, this will be an _ongoing_ process, & we can anticipate that the aforementioned technology will be eternally evolving & developing as time goes on..."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Pias blurted out, practically hanging on the edge of his seat with excitement. "Let's get to work!"

"And, so, we shall!" Madame Ratburn declared in determination, sealing her new partnership with Anya with a hearty pawshake. Today was going to be the dawn of a brand-new era in the mouse world, that was for certain!

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: 1st movement of Franz Joseph Haydn's "Concerto No. 2 In D For Cello")_

Meanwhile, unaware of the strange & sudden events that were taking place in London, the rest of the mouse world carried on normally. The countryside of the Scottish Highlands remained peaceful & undisturbed on this pleasant August afternoon, as golden rays of sunshine bathed the verdant pastures & rolling hills in their wonderful, warm glow. Bubbling brooks & roaring rivers flowed through the grassy meadows, & puffy white clouds drifted lazily across the bright blue skies. Beautiful blossoms of variously-colored flowers decorated the lush landscape, & birds nested in the branches of tall, towering trees, some of which bore delicious fruits & nuts. One of these trees in particular—a large apple tree—loomed over the land of the vast yard outside a pair of wooden farmhouses (both built for mice) that were resting not too far away from each other. The bigger of the two buildings had a height of two stories, with large square windows (flanked on either side by tartan-plaid curtains), a black shingled roof, a brickwork chimney, & red paint covering the exterior. Inside the farmhouse, all appeared to be quiet; one would think that nobody was home...that is, until the front door swung open, & a little mouseling stepped into the threshold.

The mouseling—a young girl of 10—was of average height & weight for her age, with tan fur covering her body. Her features were, for the most part, delicate, with a small dark-fuschia nose poking out from between her bright blue eyes that sparkled with a youthful gleam. Her cheeks were wide & curvy, & a pair of large, round ears perked up on either side of her head. Tucked behind the "left" ear was a big fuschia hair-bow that complemented her outfit—a blue sweater with long sleeves, a turquoise skirt (decorated with a red plaid pattern) that went down to her knees, & a white shawl with a big black bow in the front, which went well with the white socks & black party shoes covering her feet. A small white bucktooth could be seen jutting out from her upper lip, as she deeply inhaled & exhaled the fresh, summery scent of the flowers & grass growing on the grounds of her family's farm. Olivia Flaversham smiled widely from ear to ear, as she looked around at the pastoral scenery of Scotland, savoring every single sight, sound, & smell that she took in...

It was a wonderful day today, & Olivia couldn't wait to take that first step outside onto the front lawn of the farmhouse! There were only a few minutes to spare before lunchtime, & there was so much she wanted to do before she sat down to eat...Oh, why did it seem to Olivia that there were never enough hours in the day? Summer was whizzing by in a blur, & before Olivia even knew it, she & her friends from the nearby farmhouse would be starting school in Mouse Edinburgh! _My, oh, my, how time does fly,_ thought Olivia, as she scampered out into the front yard, wondering what she would do in the last few moments of the late morning...

For all of August (& the last two days of July), Olivia & her father Hiram had been lodging with their relatives (Grandpa Malcolm & Grandma Kayley) at their Highland home, right next door to the family that had been friends of the Flavershams for as long as Olivia could remember—a woman named Miss Leesha, her husband Gordon, & their four mouselings. [5] Whenever Olivia & Hiram took vacations to the grandparents' farm, they would spend as much time with Leesha & her loved ones as they did with Grandpa Malcolm & Grandma Kayley. Unfortunately, since Hiram was so busy with his work at the toy shop, those father-&-daughter holidays didn't happen as often as they would have liked them to...but now that Hiram was taking time off from his job, he & Olivia could stay & visit their relatives & friends in Scotland all day, every day!

Ever since the events that took place on July 21 & 22 of 1897 (& the week afterward), Olivia's life had largely returned back to normal...aside from the recent move to the Flaversham family farm, & the closing of her father's toy shop. [6] Hiram had told Olivia that the move from Mouse London probably wouldn't be permanent (unless she wanted it to be!), but it would be nice for them to take a break from their usual routines, & have a change of pace...not to mention a much-needed change of scenery, after all they had gone through in the last month. And, when you think about it, the Flavershams needed to "get away from it all" for a good period of time, in order to heal from the traumas associated with working for a wicked villain, being captured & held hostage by said villain, being forced to participate in an assassination plot, nearly getting killed, & having their lives threatened...more than once.

Perhaps, one day, Olivia & her father would return to their old home in Mouse London...but, until then, Olivia was content to live her days out in Scotland, enjoying the time she spent with her grandparents & friends. Yet, no matter where she went or what she did, Olivia would never, _ever_ forget the mouse who had saved her life (& that of her father's, as well)—Basil Of Baker Street, the Great Mouse Detective. _I wonder what Basil's doing now,_ Olivia couldn't help but think to herself as she walked across the front yard. _Is he still working with Dr. Dawson...?_

Olivia's thoughts were suddenly interrupted when her ears perked up to the sound of whistling, followed by a dull thud. The mouseling's gaze darted over to a red apple that had just fallen from the big tree that stood a few mouse feet away from her. Mmmm, that apple sure looked delicious...Maybe, Olivia could have a little appetizer before lunch! With that in mind, Olivia walked over to the apple, then picked it up in her paws, & sunk her teeth into its shiny surface, savoring the taste of the fruit's juicy insides with every morsel she took into her mouth...

After finishing half of the apple, Olivia was thinking about whether she should put the partially-eaten food back down on the ground, in case a neighboring animal would like the leftovers...but before she could make a decision, her ears perked up again—this time, to the sound of footsteps—& Olivia turned her head around in the direction that the noise was coming from. One of the mouselings from next door had joined her by the tree! He was a sprightly, 12-year-old boy with tan fur (which was of a lighter shade on the areas of his muzzle & underbelly), blue eyes, & short red hair that covered his crown & scalp (with several small bangs hanging down over his forehead); he was dressed in a long-sleeved blue shirt, a pair of ankle-length trousers that were in a darker shade of blue, a forest-green vest (which he wore open), a dull pair of dark-gray shoes, & a forest-green English cap that was a bit too big for his head. The mouseling (whose name was Doug) stared curiously at Olivia, as he pointed to the half-eaten fruit she was holding in her hands. "Where did you get that apple, Livvy?" Doug asked his younger friend.

"Up in the tree," Olivia replied, as she looked up & pointed to the branches of the mighty plant, while Doug followed her gesture with an upward gaze of his eyes. Sure enough, the top of the tree was filled with hundreds of green leaves...& what must have been dozens of shiny red apples! Oh, they looked so delectable...so delicious...Doug simply _had_ to get his paws on at least one of them! But there was_ just _one problem..."I want to get an apple from the tree," Doug said as he lowered his head back down to look at Olivia, "but it's too high for me to reach."

It didn't take long for Olivia to take notice of the layers of fungi that grew on the trunk of the apple tree. Dropping the half-eaten apple, Olivia leaped swiftly onto the tree trunk, & began scaling the side of it, planting her paws & feet on the fungi rungs as though she were on a rock-climbing wall. "Who said you had to reach from the ground?" Olivia asked Doug coyly, as she started climbing up the tree, making her way up into the highest boughs. Not wanting to be left behind, Doug quickly followed after the plucky little mouseling, ascending the side of the tree trunk with her until they both reached the top.

When Olivia & Doug had gotten up into the higher part of the tree, they both sat down together on one of the bare branches. "So, where's the apples, Livvy?" Doug asked, looking at Olivia quizzically.

Almost immediately, Olivia pointed to the branch with the most number of apples, hanging just above their heads. "The only question _now_," Olivia told Doug with a mischievous smile, "is, 'Who gets the _most_ apples?'" With a playful glare, Olivia jumped up, & grabbed one of the apples from the branch into her paws, before landing down on the spot where she was earlier. Then, Olivia began digging into her apple heartily, as she leisurely dangled her legs & feet over the side of the branch.

_Man, how on Earth did Livvy do that? _Doug pondered to himself, amazed as to how she caught the apple with such deft dexterity. _She can sure make a neat catch! Maybe, I could try something like that, too... _Wanting to imitate his friend, Doug attempted to repeat Olivia's move...but instead of landing on the branch when he caught the apple, he fell down, down, down, as Olivia watched him with a concerned gaze. Then, Olivia shut her eyes with a wince, as she heard Doug hit the ground with a thud...before opening her peepers again, & looking down at the place where Doug had fallen. Much to her relief, although the older mouseling was in an uncomfortable position (not to mention that he had a bruise on his head), he appeared to be fine. "I'm OK, Livvy!" he shouted to his pal, waving about the apple he now held in his paw.

Suddenly, Olivia & Doug both froze when they heard a voice cry out worriedly, "Olivia, what are you doing in that tree? Get down _immediately__,_ dear, or you'll fall & break your neck!" Before long, the two mouselings were being joined by a third rodent—an adult female mouse in her early 30's. Covered in gray fur, she had dark-gray hair (tied into a bun), a slightly-prominent pink nose, & a pair of blue eyes that couldn't hide the anxiety she felt. She wore a scarlet dress with a white plaid pattern & matching lace trimmings, along with a navy-blue apron, a light-yellow ladies' hat (which had a scarlet ribbon-stripe with a daisy on it), a small pair of glasses (perched delicately upon her nose), & a pair of scarlet shoes with small heels.

The mouse woman looked down at Doug with a panicked expression on her face, before looking up in the direction of the tree branches when she heard Olivia call out in response, "Look at me, Miss Leesha! I'm on top of the mouse world!"

Up in the boughs of the apple tree, Miss Leesha could see little Olivia smiling down at her, still holding the apple in one paw, as she gave a friendly wave at her with the other. Upon seeing that Olivia was indeed all right, Miss Leesha's earlier expression eased as she sighed in relief, before looking up at Olivia with a nervous smile, as she called out anxiously, "That's fine, dear...Now, why don't you come down from there? Lunch is almost ready!"

"OK, Miss Leesha!" Olivia replied, before looking at a big rope that had been tied to the branch in front of her. A few years ago, during a visit to the farm, Olivia had helped Hiram, Miss Leesha, Mr. Gordon, Grandma Kayley, & Grandpa Malcolm fasten the rope to the tree, so Olivia & her friends could have a swing to play on during sunny days like this one. And, now, it was time to put that rope-swing to good use! Sporting a broad, adventurous smile on her face, Olivia grabbed tightly onto the rope, & swung down towards the ground, letting out a merry cry of "_Wheeeeee!_" Then, when she made her way to the bottom of the tree trunk, Olivia let go of the rope, & jumped onto the grass, which crunched a little under the soles of her shoes as she landed. Olivia then took a moment to smile & pose sweetly at Miss Leesha, who went over to pick the mouseling up into her arms.

Hugging her little friend tightly, Miss Leesha exclaimed joyfully, "Oh, Olivia, thank heavens you're all right!" Then, when she had set Olivia back down onto the ground, the mother mouse added in a troubled tone-of-voice, "Goodness Gouda, child, what on Earth were you thinking? Don't you know you could have hurt yourself?"

Just then, a fourth mouse arrived onto the scene, joining Olivia, Doug, & Miss Leesha. Like the former two, he had tan fur, but no markings covered his muzzle or underbelly. The back & sides of his head were adorned with bushy red hair & sideburns, while a thick red moustache spanned across the length of his face. A large, slightly-prominent brown nose jutted out from between a pair of kindly chocolate-brown eyes, topped with red eyebrows that were as thick & bushy as the rest of his facial hair. He was of a slender, well-built figure, with rough carpenter's paws, thin wrists, & knees that were continually bent from stooping over so much when he worked. He was dressed in a fancy blue jacket with matching trousers, a crisp white shirt, a pinstriped red cravat, a shiny pair of black shoes, & a blue bowler hat with a red ribbon-stripe, along with an oversized pair of glasses that were perched upon his nose. The mouse—none other than Olivia's father, Hiram Flaversham—gave an assuring smile at his parents' neighbor, as he placed a paw on her shoulder, & said, "Leesha, don't worry. Olivia's a very careful mouseling."

"Well, what about the time she nearly drowned in the swimming hole?" Aunt Leesha retorted, turning to face Hiram with a glare.

"That was _my_ fault, Ma, remember?" Doug said as he pushed himself up off the ground & rose to his feet, before sweeping the dust off his clothes as he continued, "I pulled down Livvy's ankle when we were playing 'shark hunt', & I accidentally brought her under the water."

"And it's a wonder you didn't _kill_ the girl!" Miss Leesha said scoldingly, glaring at Doug with her arms akimbo. Then, when she had said that, _another_ incident came to mind: "Oh, & don't forget the time when Olivia nearly slipped on a rock in the stream near the woods! Had the poor thing fallen, she could have cracked her head open!"

Hiram listened to Miss Leesha's ramblings with polite attentiveness, knowing how deeply she cared about Olivia & her own children...but at the same time, the toymaker couldn't help but think that his parents' next-door neighbor worried a little _too_ much about his daughter's safety. Of course, Hiram was _very_ protective of his little mouseling, as any good parent would be, & he would do anything to keep her safe from harm...yet he didn't want to be _overprotective_, & not allow Olivia the chance to be a kid—to fully enjoy the freedoms that came with youth, without having her father looking over her shoulder every second! No matter how many times Olivia had gotten into trouble of some sort, she had _always_ made it out OK, & her doting daddy could thank his lucky stars for that. To Hiram, it was perfectly all right for his daughter to climb trees, explore uncharted territory, ride the back of a flying bird, or go on an exciting adventure, just as long as his wee bairn was careful, & did her best to keep her wits about her. And, so far, Olivia had never failed to do that! But, hoping to ease Miss Leesha's fears, Hiram made sure to assure her about the additional asset that aided his little angel in getting out of dire straits: "Well, Leesha, just be thankful that Olivia has my lightning-quick reflexes."

Miss Leesha, Hiram, & Doug all watched, as Olivia demonstrated a display of martial-arts moves for her father & friends—roundhouse kicks, paw-chops, foot-jabs, & the like. For someone who had never taken karate lessons, the mouseling appeared to be very good at it! Hiram couldn't help but witness his daughter's performance with a loving smile & an impressed gaze, while Doug watched with a wide-eyed look of wonderment, his jaw literally hanging open in astonishment. Miss Leesha, however, just rolled her eyes, & turned to walk away from Hiram, as she said in a semi-sardonic tone, "Yes, my dear pal certainly was fortunate enough to inherit your traits, Hiram..." Then, she called out to her oldest son, "Dougie, come on! Lunch is on the table!"

Doug immediately scampered after his mother, following her into their farmhouse. He couldn't _wait_ to eat the food that Miss Leesha had prepared for him, his dad, & his siblings, along with the Flavershams (who they had invited over for the midday meal)! And neither could Hiram; he could already feel his stomach rumbling, as he walked off in the same direction, only turning back for a moment to cup his paw over his mouth, as he called out to his daughter, "Olivia, dear, it's time to eat!"

"Coming, Daddy!" Olivia replied, abruptly finishing her impromptu karate exercises, & dashing over to join her father at his side. After taking Hiram by the paw, Olivia followed him into Miss Leesha's farmhouse. As soon as she stepped inside the humbly-decorated dining room, the mouseling's mouth instantly began watering when her nose picked up on the heavenly aromas of herbal tea with cheese crumpets, cheese soufflé, cheese tarts, cheese soup, mashed cheese potatoes, cheddar cheese-cake, & other delightful dairy-based dishes! As soon as she & her father sat down at the large wooden table, Olivia tied a napkin around her neck, & grabbed her silverware, ready for her first serving of scrumptious food!

The same could be said for Leesha's husband, Mr. Gordon, who sat right between Olivia & the empty chair that his wife would soon be sitting in. Mr. Gordon was short for a mouse his age, & his body (covered in auburn fur) boasted a plump, portly figure. Short, straight dark-red hair covered the top of his head, with a thick, bushy dark-red moustache spanning across the entire length of his face. His small pink nose jutted out from between a pair of jolly green eyes, topped with curved dark-red eyebrows that were as thick & bushy as his moustache. A big white bucktooth jutted out from his upper lip, & average-sized ears flanked either side of his head. His arms & legs were of stout build, with large paws & feet attached to the end of each limb. He was dressed in a sea-green jacket with matching trousers that both fit his figure very well, & underneath the first article of clothing, a light-sea-green waistcoat & a set of spring-green shirt-sleeves adorned his upper half. A light-sea-green bow-tie (which matched the waistcoat) fastened the folded-down flaps of his shirt collar together, while a pair of shiny dark-gray shoes completely covered his feet. And, just like Olivia, a napkin was tied around the nape of his neck, & pieces of silverware were held in his hands. He, too, couldn't wait to help himself to the luscious lunch that awaited him & his loved ones!

"You're going to _love_ what Leesha's cooked for us today," Mr. Gordon told Olivia & Hiram, who was sitting in the chair on his daughter's "right" side. "She's fixed an entire feast for everyone!"

"I noticed," Hiram replied with a smile & a nod of his head, before donning his dinner napkin, & taking up his silverware. Looking around the room, he noticed that Grandma Kayley & Grandpa Malcolm (sitting in chairs at both ends of the table) had done the same thing, along with Miss Leesha & Mr. Gordon's four mouselings—Doug, Fran, Russell, & Wendy—who were sitting opposite from Olivia, her dad, & their own father.

Grandma Kayley & Grandpa Malcolm (both aged in their mid-to-late 60's) were of lean, slender build, with tan fur covering their bodies, wrinkles & signs of aging adorning their faces, & straight hair that was once a fiery shade of red, but had turned silver with their passage into the golden years. Being a much taller mouse than Malcolm, Grandma Kayley constantly towered over her husband, & whenever one saw the two together, it was easy to see which parent had passed on the genes of short stature to Hiram. Like Miss Leesha, Grandma Kayley's hair was tied into a neat bun, & her kindly blue eyes hid behind a pair of small spectacles (perched upon the bridge of her small pink nose); her limbs were slim, & the adjoining appendages, delicate. Her clothes were colored in different shades of the same hue; her long-sleeved, ankle-length lavender dress was decorated with light-lavender lace trimmings, & its tall light-lavender collar (adorned with an elliptical emerald cameo) sported the same embellishments as the sleeve-cuffs & hem, while a row of three dark-lavender buttons went down along the front of the dress' top-piece. A pair of lavender shoes with small heels fit snugly upon her feet, & the lavender bead bracelet on her "right" wrist went perfectly well with her matching, orb-shaped earrings; an emerald ring (complementing the cameo on her dress-collar) was worn on her "right" hand, while a golden wedding band was worn on the other paw.

In contrast, Grandpa Malcolm looked a lot more like his son Hiram, with a similar height, hairstyle, moustache, & set of sideburns...but he also had a thick silver beard that went with the rest of his facial hair. He wore a buttonless light-golden shirt, with a big purple bow-tie fastening the upturned wings of its starched collar; a snug-fitting pair of golden trousers (held up by a dark-brown leather belt with a golden buckle) covered his lower half, & large dark-brown shoes sheltered his feet. Unlike his wife & son, however, he did not wear any glasses.

The 4 mouselings of Miss Leesha & Mr. Gordon all sat together on their side of the table, with 12-year-old Doug sitting on the northern end (closest to Grandpa Malcolm), followed by 11-year-old Fran, 8-year-old Russell, & 4-year-old Wendy (who sat on the southern end, closest to Grandma Kayley). The two girls both shared their mother's hair & fur color, but their eyes were the same shade of green as their father's; in contrast, Russell had the same hair & fur color as Mr. Gordon, but he'd inherited his mother Leesha's blue eyes (not to mention he stood apart from his siblings with his stocky, athletic figure). Out of all four children, Doug looked the most different, with his tan fur, light body markings, & short red hair; the only noticeable thing he seemed to have in common with any of his relatives was his blue eyes. [7]

The mouselings were all dressed in different sets of clothes, each as unique as their appearance & fursonality. Wendy wore a short-sleeved mint-green dress that went all the way down to her ankles, with a small turquoise hair-bow tucked behind her "right" ear; she usually didn't wear any shoes—nor did she care to—but she _could_ usually be seen with her favorite ragdoll (in fact, Wendy had "invited" her friend over to lunch, & the doll was seated in the toddler's lap right now). Russell wore a white T-shirt with a sky-blue stripe around the midsection, a pair of long blue trousers (reaching down to his ankles), & dull dark-gray shoes that were scuffed in several places—no doubt, as a result of the rough horseplay that Russell would sometimes get into in the middle of one of his favorite games or sports. Fran dressed in the "proper attire" of a growing Mousetorian girl, wearing a lavender turtleneck sweater, a deep-green skirt (reaching down to her knees), white socks, & black shoes that she always kept clean & shiny; a lavender ladies' hat (decorated with a deep-green ribbon-stripe & a yellow flower with an orange center) was worn on top of her shoulder-length hair, which had been neatly combed with her favorite fur-brush. And Doug was still wearing his forest-green & blue ensemble, which was a little wrinkled & disheveled after his earlier fall from the apple tree.

It seemed that Fran was the only mouseling who was even making an _attempt_ to wait patiently for her food, for Doug, Russell, & Wendy's excited expressions betrayed their hidden feelings of gnawing hunger. "Oh, boy, I can't wait for lunch!" Russell exclaimed eagerly, "gently" padding his silverware-laden fists against the surface of the table (not aware that the empty plates & bowls were shaking & shimmying from the force of his movements). "When do we eat? When do we eat? _When do we eat?_"

"If you could just _chill down_ for a few seconds," Fran calmly chastised Russell with a reprimanding glower, "Mom will be bringing the food out! You _really_ need to learn how to be more patient, Russell...Patience is a virtue & a value that _all_ Mousetorian mouselings should learn & take to heart."

"If you're gonna blab about 'Mousetorian virtues' again," Russell complained, "why not save your speech for when I'm actually in the mood to hear it?"

"And while we're on the subject," Fran suggested (with some irritation in her voice), "I think we should also take the time to discuss _the importance of being polite!_"

"That's a good idea," Russell retorted. "You can start as soon as we're done eating..."

"Lunch!" Wendy cheered, smiling broadly from ear to ear. She was practically bouncing up & down in her seat, unable to contain her inner elation...that is, until a stern look from Fran forced the toddler to end her ecstatic display, & sit back down in her booster chair. The merry expression did not leave Wendy's face, however, as she saw her mother come in with all the delicious food she'd been preparing for the last couple of hours—from the cheese soup, to the cheese soufflé, & everything in between. And, of course, there were plenty of herbal tea & cheese crumpets for everyone! Once she had finished serving everyone their midday meal, Miss Leesha sat down to eat at the table beside her husband Gordon, & as the feasting continued, the Flavershams & their friends partook in all sorts of engaging & entertaining conversations with one another.

At one point, after taking a bite of his cheddar cheese-cake, Mr. Gordon turned to face Olivia, who had been delicately taking spoonfuls of her cheese soup into her mouth. "So, Olivia, your father tells me that you swung down on a rope...all the way from the branches of a tree!" Mr. Gordon said, looking down & smiling at Olivia as he made a reference to one of their recent table-talks. Olivia briefly looked up from her bowl of cheese soup to face Mr. Gordon with a return of his smile, nodding her head to confirm Hiram's earlier claims, before going back to eating her food. "I think we have a little Furzan in our family," Mr. Gordon said playfully, as he reached out a paw to tousle Olivia's fur-hair. "Next thing you know, she'll be talking to jungle animals!"

Miss Leesha was _not_ too pleased at the prospect of that! "Jungle animals?" she echoed, her tone-of-voice & expression taking on their usual air of anxiety. "Oh, dear me..." She looked about ready to faint (& would have indulged the urge to do so, were she not at the table).

"Don't worry, Mom," Fran assured Miss Leesha with an optimistic smile. "If a big leopard tries to chase Olivia, she can poke it with a spear!"

"Yea!" Wendy cheered, launching into her excited mode once again. The little mouse girl grabbed her fork off of her placemat, & waved her arms about wildly in the air as she added, "Livvy poke mean 'leper' with junga spear!" By this point, Wendy could no longer contain her restlessness. She began stabbing her fork against the table with mighty blows, accidentally making all the glasses, dishes, & silverware jump up & down every time her fist hit the wooden surface. As she was doing all this, Wendy made a series of nonsensical noises: "_Pshoo! Pow! Pshoo! Bam-bam! __Pokey!_" With that final cry, Wendy gave the table her hardest hit ever, & the impact caused her plate of mashed cheese potatoes to fly off her placemat, into the air, over the table...& right into Miss Leesha's face!

Just a second or two after the mashed cheese potatoes came into contact with Miss Leesha, the plate fell onto the table with a loud clatter, & the others got a good glance at the golden-colored goop that was now covering the mouse mother's head. Glaring in irritation, Miss Leesha took out a hankie, & tried her best to clean off the sticky mess from the food (though she had a feeling she would probably need to give her face & hair a good wash after lunch was over...if not _several_ soaks in the sink!). As they were watching this, Mr. Gordon, Olivia, & Hiram tried as hard as they could not to laugh...but their attempts ultimately proved to be fruitless. Soon, the three mice were giggling their tails off—much to Miss Leesha's displeasure, which soon became apparent to the others as she wiped off the last of the cheese potatoes, & disposed of the newly-soiled hankie. "Oh, you're all just _impossible!_" Miss Leesha exclaimed irritatedly when she saw her husband & two friends laughing.

The chortles & chuckles being emitted by Mr. Gordon, Olivia, & Hiram eventually subsided, & as he tried to calm himself down from his earlier state of merriment, the former wiped a tear from his eye with his forefinger, & said with a sheepish smile, "Sorry, Leesha...I'm afraid we couldn't help it."

When Miss Leesha turned her head away from Mr. Gordon to glare across the table at Wendy, the only response she got was an innocent stare from her youngest daughter, as her other three children tried to hold back their own laughter. "Wendy make cheese taters go sploosh?" the tiny toddler inquired, still sporting that ingenuous smile on her face.

By this point, the rest of the mouselings could no longer contain themselves. Doug, Fran, & Russell burst into hysterical giggles, &, before she even knew it, Wendy was joining her siblings in their jollity. (Russell could barely control his laughter enough to tell his little sister in reply, "Yep, Wendy, you sure did!") When Mr. Gordon, Hiram, & Olivia got caught up in the contagious mood of mirth—along with Grandpa Malcolm & Grandma Kayley!—Miss Leesha couldn't find it in herself to stay mad anymore. Soon, she, too, was joining her family & friends in the laughter that rang throughout the dining room of the farmhouse. The giggling continued for several moments, &, for a while, Olivia thought it would go on into the afternoon...but, in the end, the mice were all able to compose themselves, before finally returning to their lunch.

* * *

Not too long afterwards, Olivia & the other four mouselings had all finished their midday meal, & they were now spending the afternoon in the upstairs nursery / playroom. Olivia was sitting on the floor, playing with a variety of brilliantly-colored Rainbow Toys, while Wendy played with a set of Rainbow Blocks, a Rainbow Xylophone, a multicolored toy train, & (of course) her favorite rag-dolly. Russell was bouncing a Rainbow Beach Ball up & down like a basketball dribbler, while Fran contented herself to playing games with her set of jacks. Doug was seated at a desk in the corner of the playroom, coloring different pictures on pieces of paper with wax crayons. The children were having oodles of fun as they played together, & their peaceful, pleasant activities progressed through the afternoon without any interruptions...for the most part.

At one point, while dribbling his Rainbow Beach Ball, Russell gave the toy a particularly-hard push...&, as the athletic lad often tended to do, he overestimated his own strength. The Rainbow Beach Ball bounced off the floor at an angle, flew up towards Fran, & accidentally hit her on the head, causing her to drop the jacks in her paws as she let out a startled cry. Within seconds, the Rainbow Beach Ball fell back down onto the floor, & after Fran had regained her bearings (& subsequently realized what happened), she turned to glare at Russell, who smiled sheepishly at his sister as he posed coyly, & apologized, "Oops...Sorry, Fran."

Wendy couldn't help but giggle & point at an irritated Fran (still holding one of her Rainbow Blocks in the hand she was gesturing with), as she remarked, "Russa make ball bonk Fran on the head!" Fran glared indignantly at Wendy for a few seconds, then went back to her jacks game, trying to start all over again; at the same time, Wendy went back to playing with her own toys.

Meanwhile, Olivia was still busily playing with her Rainbow Toys. The little Scotsmouse juggled a Rainbow Slinky back & forth in her paws, watching the iridescent colors rush in front of her eyes in a beautiful blur, as she hummed the bars of her favorite tune—the same song played by the music box built into the dancing doll that she had received for her 10th birthday only a month ago... [8] As an ocean of past memories began to sweep through her mind, Olivia wondered how much everyone in Mouse London longed to be back in the company of her & her father. No doubt, all their neighbors & chums from the city were missing them terribly, & Olivia was sure her teacher & classmates at Holmesington Elementary School felt the same way (even if she didn't have too many friends there). [9] And, now that Olivia thought about it, Basil & Dr. Dawson were probably missing the Flavershams, too...

Before Olivia could muse about how lonely her two pals might have been feeling without her & her daddy coming to visit them, she suddenly looked up from the Rainbow Slinky she was still absentmindedly playing with, & noticed Doug doodling pictures at his little "work-station" in the corner. Curious as to what her older friend was doing, Olivia put down the Rainbow Slinky, then got up onto her feet, & went over to approach Doug; she soon saw that he was coloring in a picture of an apple. Once Doug was done with that picture, he turned it over, revealing the blank piece of paper that was hidden underneath; on this sheet, he began to color a picture of a smiling honeybee. After finishing his work on _that_ image, he flipped over to a new page, where he colored in a picture of a big birthday cake, topped with candles & frosting.

"What are you doing, Doug?" Olivia asked as she stood up on her tiptoes, gazing curiously at the picture of the cake when Doug had finished it.

"Coloring in pictures," Doug replied, still concentrating on his work (& not turning to face Olivia). As he turned over the completed image of the cake, before working on a new picture of a daisy flower, he added, "I'm making an alphabet book for Wendy."

"I already told you, Doug," Fran commented, "Wendy's not old enough to read yet! She has to finish preschool first!"

Upon hearing this, Doug paused his work on the daisy drawing, then turned to face Fran with an irritated, indignant glare. "Well, when she goes to _kindergarten_, Frannie," he retorted, "Wendy's gonna thank her big brother for being nice enough to make this lovingly-crafted, beautifully-illustrated book for her!"

With that, Doug turned back around to finish his latest picture, but before he could turn it over when he was done, he heard Fran pipe up, "The books the teachers keep at school are better, Doug!"

"Are not!" Doug challenged.

"Are too!" Fran countered.

"Are _NOT!_"

"Are _too_, times a hundred!"

"Are _not_, times a million!"

"Are _too_, times infinity!"

"Are _not_, times infinity plus..."—Doug strained for the words—"...a gazillion..._jillion_..._bamillion__!_"

Once again, Wendy couldn't help but let out a giggle of gleeful amusement. "Doug say _REAL _big numba!" she marveled, astonished by her brother's ability to top Fran's "infinity".

Doug simply smiled at Wendy in a smug manner, before going back to his work & flipping over the finished picture of the daisy, as he replied, "Why, thank you, Wendy. I'm glad _someone_ is appreciative of my efforts to improve your education!" (When she heard Doug say this, Fran gave out an impatient sigh, but did not choose to comment.)

With that, Olivia went back over to her earlier spot on the floor, where she continued to play with her Rainbow Toys, while Doug worked on coloring a picture of a big-eared elephant. At one point, Doug's labor was suddenly interrupted when he became distracted by the sound of Wendy playing a rough version of "_God Save The Queen_" on her Rainbow Xylophone, followed by Fran's advice to her little sister: "Wendy, dear, you're not on key. That should be an F-sharp...No, wait, I think that's an _F-__flat_." Doug couldn't help but roll his eyes in annoyance, as he went back to his coloring. _You know __another__ thing good Mousetorian mouselings should learn, Fran? _he thought. _How to describe musical notes properly!_

* * *

Later that afternoon, Olivia, Doug, Fran, Russell, & Wendy were finished playing in the nursery, &, now, the 5 mouselings were out in the front yard, playing a game of "Hide-&-Seek". Having decided to start the first round—as he usually did whenever he played a game—Russell leaned against the trunk of the big apple tree, covering his eyes as he counted down from 15 to zero, while his friend & siblings went to hide. As soon as Russell started on "15", Olivia scampered off to hide in a bush, while Fran hid in the hollow of a small log, Doug hid behind a cluster of large heather plants, & Wendy hid under a big leaf. All 4 mouselings made sure they were hidden well enough, before Russell finally uncovered his eyes, & shouted, "Zero! Ready or not, here I come!"

With that, Russell began to run all about the front yard, looking around for Olivia & the others...but to no avail. He checked under every rock, in every patch of grass, & everywhere else he expected to make good hiding places, but he couldn't see _any_ of them! _Darn!_ Russell pouted inwardly. _Where the heck could everybody be? _Just as Russell was about to give up, he looked down at the ground...& spotted a pair of stuffed legs poking out from underneath a large leaf. _Well, what do you know? Just my luck! _Russell thought, sporting a smug smile as he lifted the leaf up to reveal...none other than Wendy & her ragdoll!

Wendy wasn't too pleased that Russell had managed to find her. "No fair!" the tot complained with an annoyed glower, huffily crossing her arms over her chest. "Wendy wanted to win!"

"You _did _win, Wendy," Russell corrected his sister. "I found you first, so that means you get to find everybody else now."

As soon as she heard this, Wendy's pouty countenance switched to a broad smile; already, she was taking great delight in her new role in the game! Still clutching her rag-dolly, Wendy scampered off, eagerly engaging in her search for Olivia & her older siblings. The little lass was so caught up in the enthralling enthusiasm of her quest, that she didn't take notice of Russell chasing after her, as he shouted, "Wait! You didn't count & wait for _me_ to hide yet!"

Not too far away, Olivia was still hidden inside the bush she had chosen to conceal herself in; the small Scotsmouse parted the leaves of said bush, before peeking out through the foliage with a mischievous, sly smile on her face. _Russell will __never__ find me here! _she thought to herself smugly. But before Olivia could duck back into her shelter, she was soon surprised to see Wendy toddling up to her. Poking Olivia in the nose with her forefinger, the scrawny child launched into a triumphant victory dance, her doll & dark-gray ponytail jostling about in the air, as she chimed proudly, "I found you, Livvy! I found you!"

With a "defeated" look, Olivia crawled out of her hiding place, revealing herself to Wendy & Russell (who had just joined the former at her side). Fran soon came onto the scene, as well, sweeping the moss off of her clothes as she said with a sheepish smile, "I didn't want to stay in that log. Too much moss & slime in there..._ick_."

After the arrival of her oldest sister, Wendy went off to look for Doug, as the others followed her...but by the time their search came to an end near the cluster of heather plants, he was nowhere to be found! "Where Doug?" Wendy asked in puzzlement, as she turned her head to face Russell & Fran, who were both looking around for any sign of their eldest sibling.

Olivia quickly saw where the heather had been disturbed, & she knew this was where Doug had made his earlier entrance. Pointing to the parted heather, Olivia told her friends, "He probably went to hide in those flowers." With that, Olivia dashed into the forest of purple plants—which was more of a _jungle_, really—& began searching all around the wild foliage, hoping to find Doug...or, at least, any clues that could tell her where he had gone; Russell & Fran (carrying Wendy & her doll in her arms) followed their comrade close behind.

"Where could Doug be?" Fran asked worriedly, looking around in vain for her older brother. "I thought you said he was right here, Livvy."

Olivia took a moment to pause & ponder to herself, trying to think of a way to figure out where Doug had gone, before she finally looked down...& saw repeating pairs of shoe-sole patterns padded into the grass, leading into another part of the thicket. "Follow me!" Olivia told Fran, Russell, & Wendy. "I think if we follow these footprints, they'll lead us straight to him!"

And, so, the mouselings all went along the trail of shoe imprints, continuing their search for Doug as they wandered through the forest of heather plants. They looked & looked for the next several minutes, until their investigation ultimately led them into an open clearing on the heather moors near their home. As soon as they emerged from the flowery thicket, & stepped out into the meadow, Olivia, Russell, Fran, & Wendy could see a small tree, planted not too far away from where they were standing...&, to their great surprise, they found Doug hiding in the branches! The children's looks of relief soon became wide-eyed, worried expressions, however, when they saw Doug struggling to free himself from a group of vines that were hanging from the tree (Olivia guessed that Doug was using said vines to climb up into the boughs, but had accidentally gotten himself tangled in the rope-like cords).

Grunting & groaning with effort, Doug tried desperately—but vainly—to wiggle out of his restraints, & Olivia, Russell, & Fran (still carrying Wendy & her doll) immediately went over to approach the tree in which he was so terribly trapped. "Doug, what happened?" Fran asked in alarm, as she & the others looked up at the entangled mouseling.

"Help me, you guys!" Doug shouted with a groan, as he continued to try & get himself loose from the vines (but to no avail). "I'm...stuck!"

Upon seeing how dire their brother's predicament was, Fran, Russell, & Wendy all looked down at each other with anxious gazes, not sure how they could help Doug. "What'll we do?" Russell questioned his sisters. "We gotta get Doug out of those vines!"

"But Dougie too high up in the tree," Wendy replied matter-of-factly. "We can't reach him."

At this point, Wendy & her older siblings were beginning to feel discouraged, but Olivia wasn't going to allow herself to feel the same way. She just _knew_ there had to be a way to help her friend...&, after thinking for a few moments, she soon came up with an ingenious idea! "We can't _reach_ Doug," Olivia told the other mouselings, "but we can still get him down!"

"How?" asked Fran, wondering how they would be able to accomplish that.

"Trust me, Fran," Olivia said with a crafty smile & a coy twinkle in her eyes. "I have a plan..."

And, oh, what a plan Olivia had! But, first, a few preliminary preparations had to be made, before the Scotsmouse could fully disclose the details of her plot to her friends. She wandered around the heather moors, gathering anything that would be of use to them—some pebbles, a small wooden plank, a fresh walnut, & a piece of flint rock. After bringing the makeshift tools over, Olivia enlisted the help of Fran in carefully prying the walnut open, & once the two girls had given Wendy the edible parts of the nut to nibble on, they proceeded to carve out the hollow of one half with a small knife. After that, Russell helped Olivia & Fran whet the piece of flint until it had sharpened to a point. When that was done, Olivia took a stick off of the ground, & used it to draw a diagram in a nearby patch of dirt; the paw-made picture demonstrated how Olivia & her pals would use their collected items in the effort to free Doug from the vines.

First, Olivia explained, the mouselings would make a seesaw with the wooden plank (which would serve as the plane) & the largest of the three pebbles (which would serve as the fulcrum). On one end of the plane, one of the smaller pebbles would be placed on the plank surface, & in order to make it launch into the air, Wendy needed to drop the third pebble on the other end of the seesaw. Said seesaw would have to be positioned at a certain spot on the heather moors, so that when the second pebble was launched, it would fly up, & hit one of the tree branches, before falling into the half of the walnut shell that would serve as a makeshift bucket. The walnut-half would be suspended from the branch by one of the vines, which would be tied around the shell at one end; the vine's opposite end (hanging on the other side of the bough) would be tied around the wider half of the sharpened flint rock.

After the launching pebble fell into the walnut-bucket, it would cause the container to descend from the tree branch, as a result of the additional weight. While the walnut-bucket went down towards the ground, it would tug on the vine-pulley, causing the flint rock attached to the other end to ascend higher & higher...& when the walnut-bucket got low enough, the piece of flint would slide over the branch, & fall against the tangled vines—thus cutting Doug free!

With that process in mind, Olivia, Russell, Fran, & Wendy all worked together to make the necessary arrangements, & in no time at all, they had successfully set up their elaborate "Rube Goldberg" device; now, they were ready to put their plan into action! As her dolly lay on the ground by her side, Wendy stood at the back end of the seesaw, ready to drop the pebble that would send the other one flying. Up in the tree, Olivia was kneeling on top of the branch that the homemade pulley was suspended from. After securing the vine that made up part of the device, & making sure that the front end was tied snugly enough around the walnut-bucket, Olivia looked down towards Wendy, &, with a paw cupped to her mouth, she shouted, "Are you ready, Wendy?"

Still holding the pebble in her arms, Wendy nodded, & replied with her usual smile, "Ready, Livvy!"

With that, Olivia began counting: "One...two...three..._FOUR!_" When she heard Olivia give the signal, Wendy dropped the pebble onto her end of the seesaw, launching the pebble on the opposite side, & setting off the rest of the device. And, just as Olivia had predicted, the flint rock went over the branch, & fell down onto the tangle of vines, cutting through them on impact. When the cables that had once imprisoned him finally broke apart, Doug let out a yelp of startlement, as he felt himself falling towards the ground...& into Fran's arms.

"Gotcha!" Fran cried out when Doug made a safe landing. She had caught him just in time!

After his sister had set him down onto his feet, Doug looked at Fran with a wide smile; though a little shaken, he was glad to be OK & in one piece. "Thanks, you guys!" Doug told the other mouselings, unable to contain his gratitude to them for helping him out of his earlier pickle.

"You should be thanking Olivia," Fran said, gesturing to the younger mouse as she planted a paw on her shoulder (truth be told, Olivia couldn't hide the proud smile on her face when she heard Fran's comment!). "It was her idea to come up with that wacky device."

"Say, where did you get the idea for that device anyway, Livvy?" asked Russell, now curious to learn more about the source of her inspiration.

"Yeah!" Wendy exclaimed excitedly, staring up at Olivia with bright, shining eyes. "How you make it?"

"Well, I knew someone who made a big device just like that one," Olivia answered, "back in London!" _I __guess__ you could say I knew him...though we weren't really friends, or anything. Far from it, actually..._

"What was his name, Olivia?" asked Russell.

The Glaswegian girl winced when she heard the question; she had hoped that no one would bring up the dreaded topic of the furson who'd truly inspired her to make the Goldbergian device in the first place...the very villain who had not only tried to bring harm to her & her father, but also to her friends Basil & Dr. Dawson, & even the Queen herself! "I'd...rather not discuss it right now," Olivia replied hesitantly, still wincing a little. _Besides, _she thought, _it's best that you don't know his name, anyway._

"Well, Livvy, at least tell us who taught you how to look for Doug!" Fran begged. "How did you know where his footprints would lead to?"

"And how did you know he went to hide in the heather?" Russell inquired.

Now, the memories filling Olivia's head were of a pleasant variety, & she was eager to satisfy her friends' curiosity by answering their questions. "I just did what any detective would do—look for clues, & follow their trail," Olivia responded. Doug, Fran, Russell, & Wendy all "oohed", "aahed", & muttered in fascination, & Olivia couldn't help but smile & beam proudly, as she continued, "I learned everything about investigating from my friend Basil!"

The other four mouselings gasped in shock & surprise, amazed at what they were hearing. "You mean Basil Of Baker Street?" Russell ejaculated in astonishment. "No way!"

"I can't believe you actually know the Great Mouse Detective!" Fran exclaimed, unable to hide her awe.

"When'd you meet him, Livvy?" Doug asked, bubbling over with excitement incited by interest & inquisitiveness. "What happened when you first met?"

"What does he look like?" Fran wondered with a dreamy look in her emerald eyes. "Is he cute?"

"It's a long story, you guys," Olivia replied. "But Daddy & I can tell you about it after dinner." And speaking of the proverbial Devil, Olivia & her pals could hear their parents calling out their names; no doubt, Hiram, Miss Leesha, & Mr. Gordon were looking for their wee ones out on the front lawn, & Olivia didn't want to keep them waiting & worrying for a second longer! "Come on, everyone, let's go!" Olivia directed Doug & his siblings, beckoning for them to follow her as she ran towards the forest of heather flowers. "Our parents are looking for us!" As soon as Wendy had picked up her doll, & Fran had gathered her into her arms, the 5 mouselings rushed off in the direction of the front yard, leaving the clearing on the heather moors empty & quiet once again.

* * *

Night had fallen over the Scottish Highlands, & the area around the Flaversham family farmhouse (& the neighboring building) was bathed in the silver glow of pale moonlight. The warm dusk air was filled with the melodies of chirping crickets, hooting owls, & other creatures of the evening, while fireflies danced above the pastures & plains. Inside the living room of the Flavershams' pastoral home, Olivia, Hiram, Miss Leesha, Mr. Gordon, Doug, Fran, Russell, Wendy, Grandpa Malcolm, & Grandma Kayley were all sitting down together on the couch & chairs, having just finished their supper; the mice all chatted & conversed over various topics, as they indulged in the warm glow of the cozy fire blazing in the hearth.

"So, Olivia," Grandpa Malcolm said at one point, "I believe you & your daddy have a big story to tell us."

"Mr. Malcy, Livvy & Mr. Hiram meet Basil Baker Street!" Wendy exclaimed elatedly.

"That's right, Wendy," Hiram affirmed, before beginning his tale: "You see, last month, just before we moved here, Queen Mousetoria was celebrating her Diamond Jubilee. The night before, however, was Olivia's birthday, as you all know...So, after I closed up shop for the night, Olivia & I had a small celebration, & opened her presents." How ironic that Hiram should mention birthday presents at this point, for Olivia (who sat beside her father on the sofa) was holding the very same dancing doll she had been given a month ago...Before Hiram was taken off to Buckingham Palace, he had tucked the toy (which his captor had crushed in his fist during an earlier "conversation" with him) into his pocket, where he kept it safe throughout the moments leading up to his reunion with Olivia; shortly after their move to Mouse Scotland, he'd repaired the broken doll, & surprised his daughter with it the following morning. Olivia was so happy to see her father's birthday gift all fixed up for her...but not _nearly_ as happy as she was to have her darling daddy safe & sound!

Unaware of the thoughts racing through Olivia's head, Hiram continued with his tale: "Just after I gave her my gift, though, there was a strange rattling at the door. I was worried about who might be trying to get in, so I hid Olivia in the cupboard, & shut the door. All of a sudden, this great big bat appeared in the window, & broke into the toy shop! I tried to fight off the attacker, but he managed to overpower me; then, he tied me up, & carried me out of the toy shop. The bat took me to the hideout of this evil genius, Professor Ratigan. He forced me to make this mechanical robot of Queen Mousetoria, so he could use it to dethrone her on her Diamond Jubilee, & become king of all mousedom! I told him that I wouldn't help him do such a horrible thing, but he threatened me that if I didn't do what he said, he would kill Olivia! So I had no choice but to give into Ratigan's demands...

"Well, in the meantime, Olivia wandered all around Mouse London, looking for me. This surgeon, Dr. Dawson, had just arrived from Afghanistan, & was looking for a place to spend the night, when he came upon Olivia. He asked her what was wrong, & she told him that she was looking for the Great Mouse Detective, Basil Of Baker Street. Dr. Dawson decided to take Olivia to Baker Street, & before long, they found Basil. Basil agreed to help Olivia & Dawson find me. The next morning, however, when the three were investigating at a human's toy store, Fidget sneaked in, & kidnapped Olivia! He took her to the hideout, where Professor Ratigan imprisoned her in a bottle outside. He told me that unless I finished the robot tonight, he would bring terrible harm upon my daughter. I had to keep working on that foul invention...for Olivia's sake.

"When I had finally finished the robot, Ratigan whisked me away to Buckingham Palace, where Queen Mousetoria was getting ready for her Diamond Jubilee. Suddenly, she was ambushed by Ratigan's thugs, who were dressed as royal guards! Ratigan stormed into the room, & ordered that Fidget take her outside, so he could sacrifice her to his big pet cat, Felicia. Luckily, Olivia, Dr. Dawson, & Basil were able to save the Queen & bring her back into the palace. Just as Ratigan was about to declare himself king, we managed to reveal that rat for the hideous scoundrel he truly is! Then, he snatched Olivia, & took her away in his dirigible, but Basil, Dr. Dawson, & I were able to build an airship of our own, & soon, we were chasing Ratigan & Fidget all throughout the skies of London!

"Suddenly, Ratigan accidentally crashed his blimp into the clock tower of Big Ben, catapulting him & Olivia inside—along with Basil, who had stowed away onto the airship! Basil caught Olivia, & managed to bring her out of the clock tower, where I caught her, & brought her safely onto the hot-air balloon. But, then, Ratigan tackled Basil onto the big minute hand of the clock, & then began to battle with him! Och, the fight was _intense__!_ It looked as though Ratigan was going to win, but Basil managed to trick him into falling off of the clock tower, & he was never seen again...

"And so, Basil, Dr. Dawson, Olivia, & I all went back to Baker Street; we stayed there for a week, & after we had all attended the big ceremony at Buckingham—where Basil was knighted, & received his award for service to the crown—I decided that maybe it was best we left London for a while to recover from all that we'd been through. [10] So, once we had said our 'goodbyes' to Basil & Dr. Dawson, Olivia & I packed up, & took the next train to Scotland. And, well, here we are!"

The Flaversham elders & their friends were simply awestruck by Hiram's story. For a few seconds, they were too stunned to say anything, until Wendy finally broke the silence with a coo of "Wow..."

"So _that's_ what's been going on with you & Olivia!" Grandpa Malcolm exclaimed.

"I had no idea," said Grandma Kayley. "But, then again, I suppose I didn't bother to look in the newspapers. You know how Grandpa Malcolm is about those bloody things."

"Well, Kayley, dear," Grandpa Malcolm complained, "the problem is that they take too long to get here! Why don't we just set up an electronic system instead, where you could access information anytime, anywhere, & news would come to your door at the push of a button!"

Mr. Gordon liked the sound of that! "That's certainly a fascinating idea, Malcolm," he complimented.

When he heard Mr. Gordon's praise, Grandpa Malcolm turned to face his neighbor, & smiled at him. Miss Leesha, however, just glared at the older mouse, & said in a disparaging tone, "But I think you've been reading one too many of those science-fiction magazines. Stories like this can't come true."

"Oh, & what makes you say that, Leesha?" Grandpa Malcolm countered. "After all, we ought to consider the Industrial Revolution that's been going on lately. All those factories & manufacturing plants are being put into place, &, these days, we're making all sorts of things that no one would have even _dreamed_ of a few decades ago! And if the revolution keeps going at the rate it is now...why, we just might have ourselves a _whole new technology_ before the year is out!"

"Malcolm is right, Leesha," Grandma Kayley advised. "You don't really know what the future holds in store for mousedom."

"Right on!" Doug said with a supportive smile, pumping a paw into the air.

"Progressive thinking is the way to go!" Mr. Gordon cheered. "Well-done, Kayley!"

A flattered Grandma Kayley couldn't help but beam in reaction to the praise, & Grandpa Malcolm, Mr. Gordon, Hiram, & the mouselings all returned the pleasant, positive expression on their own faces. Miss Leesha just gave an annoyed roll of her eyes, & went back to reading the novel that was once resting in her lap. The conversations among the mice continued for a few more minutes, until Hiram looked at the time on the grandfather clock in the corner of the room...& stifled a great big yawn. It was only a quarter to 10:00, &, already, he was feeling tired! Turning to face his daughter (who was still clutching her dancing doll against her), the toymaker said, "Olivia, dear, it's time for you to go to bed." Then, to Miss Leesha & Mr. Gordon's children, he added, "And since you'll be staying upstairs for tonight's sleepover, the same applies to you, too." (Not too long after Olivia & her friends had reunited with their parents on the front lawn, they asked Hiram, Miss Leesha, & Mr. Gordon if they could all spend the night at Grandma Kayley & Grandpa Malcolm's farmhouse, which they sometimes did whenever Olivia came to visit [or vice versa]. The three adults gladly accepted their children's offer, & Grandpa Malcolm & Grandma Kayley were all-too-happy to make lodging arrangements for Doug, Fran, Russell, & Wendy.)

Not really feeling sleepy—& wanting to stay up just a _little _longer—Olivia & her friends groaned & grumbled as they reluctantly got up onto the floor, & began trudging off upstairs to the big bedroom they would be sharing on the second floor. But their unenthusiastic mood quickly changed when they heard Hiram give them a little incentive: "Now, don't be so fussy, wee ones! If you all follow your nighttime routines, & behave like good little mouselings, I'll read you a bedtime story..." With that alluring prospect in mind, Olivia, Doug, Fran, Russell, & Wendy all dashed up the staircase to exit the living room, & after the adults had all watched them leave, Hiram got up off the couch, & turned to face his parents & neighbors as he said, "Well, I suppose I'll be going to bed now, myself. Goodnight, everyone." And, so, Hiram turned away, & began making his way up the stairwell to follow the children, while Miss Leesha, Mr. Gordon, Grandpa Malcolm, & Grandma Kayley all waved & bid "goodnight" wishes to him.

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: "Piano Concerto No. 5 In E-Flat Major", by Johann Sebastian Bach)_

Later, in the upstairs bedroom, Olivia, Doug, Fran, Russell, & Wendy were all ready for their evening slumber, having just changed into their nightclothes. The 5 mouselings crawled into their separate beds, & cuddled up under the vibrantly-colored patchwork quilts that adorned their soft mattresses. And, as usual, Olivia snuggled her dancing doll, while Wendy huggled her rag-dolly. Before too long, the children were all settled down into bed, & Hiram came into the room, clutching a big storybook in the crook of his arm. As he approached Olivia & the others, Hiram asked, "Has everyone taken their baths?"

"Yes," Olivia & her friends replied in unison, nodding their heads.

"Brushed their teeth?"

"Yes."

"Combed their fur?"

"Yes."

"All your night chores have been taken care of?" Hiram inquired to make sure.

Olivia & her pals all gave a silent nod in reply, with Wendy being the only one to pipe up: "Yes, Mr. Hiram."

With that, Hiram gave a satisfied smile, & took a seat on a stool that had been placed in the middle of the room, so all the mouselings could see him from the surrounding beds. "All right, then," Hiram said, as he sat down, rested the storybook on his lap, & opened it up. "I'm going to read you all that bedtime story I promised you." After turning over to the first page, Hiram cleared his throat, & began reading from the text upon it: "Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there was a princess..."

"What was her name, Mr. Hiram?" Fran wondered aloud. "Was it Fran?"

"Wendy?"

"How about Olivia?"

"Well, the book doesn't really mention her name," Hiram replied. "Let's just say, 'the princess'...So, anyway, this princess lived happily with her parents, the king & queen, in a great big castle with servants, & a moat, & white miniature horses that pulled the royal carriage..." The children cooed & muttered in fascination, enraptured by the tale that Hiram was telling them. "So, one day, the princess went out to the royal garden to pick flowers. She was having such fun, that she didn't see a big, mean..."

"_Dragon!_" Wendy finished in a mock-roar, making a ferocious pose with her arms & face.

"Yes, right, a dragon," Hiram said, "who swooped down, & caught the princess!" Collective gasps of terror from Olivia & her friends. "As the dragon was carrying the princess to his secret hideout, however, a dashing young prince saw the whole thing happening while he was making his way to the palace. He bravely got on his noble miniature steed, & followed after the dragon, hoping to find the princess, & rescue her from any danger..."

The story continued for several minutes, & after it was over, Hiram put the storybook back down on the stool, then went over to kiss each of the mouselings, & bid them "goodnight", before leaving for his own room at the end of the second-floor hallway (but not without turning on the small kerosene lamp that hung from the ceiling, serving as a makeshift night-light). For the next couple of hours, Olivia, Doug, Fran, Russell, & Wendy lay sound asleep in their respective beds...until, shortly after midnight, Olivia silently opened her eyes, & woke up from her slumber, which had been interrupted by a series of strange sounds that could be heard coming from the other side of the farmhouse. Clutching her dancing doll at her side, the little Scotsmouse (wearing a fuschia cotton nightgown to match the bow tucked behind her "left" ear) crawled out of bed, & quietly tiptoed across the room, while her friends continued to sleep peacefully, their forty winks uninterrupted.

After opening the bedroom door with a gentle creak, Olivia stepped out into the second-floor corridor, then made her way down the hallway, until she reached her father's room at the other end. Making sure not to make any noise, Olivia opened the door, & peeked inside. Through the crack in the semi-open doorway, Olivia could see that Hiram was wide awake...& dressed in the greenish-beige shirt-sleeves, dark-green trousers, olive-green apron, brown shoes, & big red bow-tie that he often wore when he did his toymaking job. And, as a matter of fact, Hiram was seated at the large table in the middle of the bedroom, working busily on making a new batch of toys at this very moment. Olivia also noticed that there was a packed suitcase lying at her father's feet, & two valises—not yet filled with the clothes, tools, & other things he was probably intending to pack—lay open on the mattress of his bed.

Olivia was puzzled & confused by the sights she was seeing. _What was her father doing up at this hour? Why was he working on toys, & wearing his work clothes? What were those suitcases doing on his bed? Why was he packing things into them? _There were too many questions, & not enough answers...While Olivia was wondering about all those things, Hiram stopped working for a moment, & looked up from the table to see that the bedroom door was ajar; in the open space, he could see part of a familiar face looking in his direction. "Olivia, dear, what are you doing up so late?" asked Hiram. "You should be in bed."

"I couldn't sleep," Olivia replied, opening the door a bit more to make her way inside the room. "I heard you working."

"Oh, sorry that I woke you up, dear," Hiram said, looking surprised. Then, moving over on the work-bench to make some room for Olivia, he added, "But while you're here, why don't you come sit down next to me?" Olivia was glad to do so, & after she sat down beside Hiram at the table, she watched him continue with his work on the new set of toys.

"Daddy," Olivia asked Hiram as she saw him engaging in his late-night labor, "are you making toys?"

"Yes, I am, dear," Hiram answered, not looking up at Olivia. He continued to work on the toys for a silent moment...until Olivia grabbed his attention again with an offhand comment: "I thought you closed down the toy shop."

Hiram froze, stunned that his daughter had brought up the topic he'd intended to discuss with her tomorrow morning, after breakfast. He had hoped that would have been a better time to tell Olivia the news, but, since she had already asked, there was no point in keeping it a secret any longer. "Well, um...about that, dear," Hiram said shyly as he looked up from his work to face Olivia, "I think it's time we had a little talk between us two." After picking Olivia up, & placing her in his lap, Hiram took a moment to put down the tool he'd been holding in his hand, before facing his daughter once again as he continued, "I was going to wait until the morning to tell you this, but...I've been thinking, Olivia...that, maybe, it's time we go back to the toy shop in London."

Olivia simply couldn't believe her ears! "What?" she gasped in incredulity.

"It was originally my plan for us to stay in Scotland a while longer, but I'm afraid we'll have to change these plans," Hiram explained, extending his "right" paw to take out a newspaper clipping, which he slid across the table to Olivia. "You see this piece of newspaper here, Olivia?" Hiram asked as he showed her the clipping. "Can you read it?"

Squinting down at the text upon the article, Olivia read aloud from the tiny print: "Toymaking Industry Booms In Mouse London...Once-Obscure Career Field Is Now Becoming Increasingly Popular...Every day, more & more toymakers are setting up businesses in Mouse London, & selling their wares to the micefolk of the city...who apparently are providing great patronage for the toymaking industry, as evidence from recent sta..." She paused at the unfamiliar word.

"Statistics," Hiram clarified, & Olivia continued where she left off: "..._statistics _shows to us...The number of customers for these toymaking businesses is growing, with an average of at least 50 customers per day...& this trend is only expected to continue to rise as time goes on..." Upon finishing that sentence, Olivia looked up from the newspaper clipping, & gazed up at Hiram with a bewildered, confused expression, not sure what to make of everything she had just read.

"Do you know what this means, dear?" Hiram asked, smiling down at Olivia.

When the answer finally came to her, Olivia returned the smile at her father, as she guessed correctly, "That if we go back to London, we can reopen the toy shop?"

"Yes, & get even more customers than we ever had before!" Hiram exclaimed happily. "Just imagine how many more smiles we'll bring onto children's faces! How much more joy & happiness we'll bring into rodents' lives!" Unable to contain his enthusiasm, Hiram swiftly got off of the workbench, & began dancing with Olivia across the floor of the bedroom; Olivia couldn't help but gladly join in the dance, smiling broadly as she relished in her father's mood of merriment. All the while, Hiram cried out joyfully, "If we reopen the shop, things will be even better for us & our customers than they ever were in the past! It'll be so wonderful to finally come back home to London!"

When Hiram had finished dancing with Olivia, he gently set her down on the floor, & as her father released his hands from her sides, Olivia's face sported a dreamy, nostalgic look. So many thoughts were rushing through her head at this point in time, & Olivia simply could not find a way to express her inner ecstasy at the marvelous news she had just heard. For the most part, she was stunned speechless, yet she _did_ manage to whisper, "We're coming home...to London..." For the next few moments, that starry-eyed expression remained on Olivia's countenance...until, when a thought came to the mouseling's mind, it changed to a look of puzzlement. "But what about Grandma Kayley & Grandpa Malcolm?" Olivia asked. "And all our friends?"

"Well, they'll stay here on the farm," Hiram answered. The toymaker was now standing at his bedside, busily packing his clothes, tools, fursonal items, & other things into the two open suitcases that lay on the mattress. "But don't worry, Olivia," he assured his daughter. "We can always go to visit them. And if, somehow, we can't, then we'll write letters to them." After shutting the lid closed on one of his valises, & taking up that suitcase into his "right" paw, Hiram turned to give a reassuring smile at Olivia, as he said comfortingly, "Olivia, dear, don't worry...Everything's going to work out wonderfully. It'll be as though we never even _left _London!"

Of course, there _were_ some things that would _always_ be different for the Flavershams, & Hiram & Olivia both knew that all-too-well. In fact, Olivia kept a little reminder of those things with her, so whenever she felt like looking at her collection of fursonal relics, she could always take out that particular memento, & look back on the events of her greatest adventure...& also remember the day when she first encountered a certain pair of mice, who she had come to consider as two of her dearest friends. "Well, _almost_," Olivia told Hiram with an optimistic smile, as she reached behind her back, & magically whipped out a photograph. Holding the picture in her paw, Olivia gazed fondly at the image it portrayed: it was of Basil Of Baker Street mugging for the camera, with Dr. Dawson & Olivia herself in either of the detective's arms—& looking absolutely bewildered! The picture had been taken after the trio of mice had successfully freed themselves from the overkill trap that was supposed to have done them in; thanks to Basil's quick thinking, that tragedy was avoided & averted, & Olivia was thankful that things turned out the way they did—otherwise, all of the United Mouse Kingdom would have been doomed to a dictatorial reign, with that rascally Ratigan as their leader!

The more she thought about Basil & Dr. Dawson, the more Olivia wondered about what they were up to in recent weeks...& the more she wanted to pay them a visit! _Perhaps,_ Olivia thought, _we can come see them after we've gotten settled into our old home, & reopened the toy shop. I'm sure they'll be delighted to see us again! _And Olivia could hardly wait for her & her father to do the same...

* * *

_**Sunday, August 23, 1897**_

The following morning was very much the same as it was yesterday—bright, sunny, & clear, with the usual chirping of birds, buzzing of bees, & blossoming of flowers in the fields. The Flavershams & their friends had finished breakfast not too long ago, &, now, Olivia & Hiram were standing in front of their family's farmhouse; the two were clutching small suitcases in their paws (with Olivia holding her dancing doll in the crook of her arm), & dressed in their outing clothes (Hiram in his fancy blue outfit, & Olivia in her favorite blue, turquoise, & fuschia ensemble with the scarf & tam-o'shanter). Not too far away, a group of burly muscle-mice were helping to move the Flavershams' numerous possessions (family heirlooms, toys & games, books, boxes of photos & other important items, trunks of clothing, home-built appliances & other devices, furniture, & whatnot) into a miniature fleet of moving vans. The Flavershams' lime-green car (which Hiram had bought in Mouse Edinburgh shortly after the arrival into Scotland) stood in front of the aforementioned fleet, ready to take off for Mouse London.

By this point, Miss Leesha, Mr. Gordon, their children, Grandpa Malcolm, & Grandma Kayley had all heard the news that Olivia & Hiram were leaving for their old home, & (as would be expected) they were reluctant to part ways with them, especially after spending so much time together. Grandpa Malcolm, Grandma Kayley, & their neighbors all went outside to hug Hiram & Olivia tightly, giving them plenty of cuddles & kisses as they bid their two loved ones "goodbye". "Oh..."—sniffle—"...are you sure you two can't stay for just a little while longer?" Miss Leesha asked Olivia & Hiram as she hugged them, not bothering to wipe the tears that were falling from her eyes.

"Don't worry, Leesha," Hiram said with a warm smile, patting his pal's shoulder, & quickly returning her hug (as Olivia did the same with her leg). "We'll come & visit as much as we can. I promise."

With that in mind, Miss Leesha smiled back at Hiram, & dabbed at her moist eyes with a pawkerchief, as she replied, "Well, all right. Just be careful on your way home."

"We will, Miss Leesha," Olivia assured her older friend, as she parted from her embrace, & picked up her dancing doll & suitcases (which had been placed on the ground before Olivia had given Leesha her last leg-hug). And, so, Hiram & Olivia began walking away with their valises & things in hand, but as they made their way to their car, they turned to wave & smile as they shouted "goodbye" to their relatives & friends, who did the same to them in return. Then, Hiram & Olivia got into the car, & shut the doors behind them. Once he & his daughter were buckled up, Hiram started the engine, & began driving down the road leading back to Mouse London; the fleet of moving vans followed the Flavershams' car immediately afterwards, accompanying the two mice on their journey home. Just as the automobile left the front yard, Olivia peeked out through the rear window from the back seat, still smiling broadly as she waved "goodbye" to her grandparents & friends one last time. As the car drove further & further away from the Flaversham family farm, Olivia could still see Grandma Kayley, Grandpa Malcolm, & the neighbors smiling, waving, & bidding "farewell" to her, hoping they would be able to see her & her father again someday soon...

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: "Venus" from Gustav Holst's "The Planets")_

Twilight was beginning to fall over Mouse London, & the miniature cityscape was bathed in the purple & pink hues of the gorgeous sunset that was taking place. The streets of the West End were quiet on this peaceful evening, & hardly any rodents or vehicles (if any at all) could be seen travelling the cobblestone-lined roads. But in the Fulham district of London, on the mouse street of Walnut Avenue (known to us humans as Michael Road), that atmosphere of emptiness was about to be changed... [11] After a day-long journey from the Scottish Highlands, the Flavershams had finally returned to their old neighborhood, &, now, they were driving their car down the shoulder of the road (an area specially designated for rodent transportation), with the fleet of moving vans following in their wake. [12] Soon, the Flavershams' car (& the vans) pulled to a stop in front of the curb, just outside the toy shop where Hiram & his family had lived & worked for as long as anyone could remember...

Once they had parked their car, Olivia & Hiram opened the doors, & got out, still clutching their suitcases & things (along with the dancing doll that Olivia continued to hold in the crook of her arm). After getting out with their possessions, & shutting the car doors behind them, the Flavershams made their way to the front door of the toy shop, which still lay completely untouched & undisturbed after the entire month it had been neglected (even the "closed" sign was still hanging in the front window). Hiram took out a key from his jacket-breast pocket, & placed it into the lock; after unlocking the door, he pushed it open with a rusty _creak_...& he & Olivia were surprised to see the inside of the shop's main room! The big overhead light was off, giving the dark chamber a hollow, haunting ambiance. The floor, the furniture, & all the toys on the display shelves (such as the sailboat, the big bouncing ball, the toy soldiers, & the dollhouse) were covered in the dust & cobwebs that had gathered over the last few weeks. Overall, the place appeared to be in pretty bad shape, & that was the first thing Olivia & Hiram noticed when they saw it.

"Oh, my!" Hiram exclaimed upon seeing the state that the toy shop was in. "This place has fallen apart since we left for Scotland last month!" But the toymaker's shocked look soon switched to an optimistic smile, & he said to Olivia, "But it's nothing we can't fix. Let's unpack our things, & get settled in, & once we're done with that, I'll have this place cleaned up faster than you can say 'tam-o'shanter'!"

With that, Olivia & Hiram both stepped into the toy shop, carrying their valises & whatnot, as the muscle-mice struggled to bring the Flavershams' possessions out of the moving vans, & into the house. Moments later, the movers were still bringing things into the kitchen & bedrooms behind the main chamber, but Olivia & her father were already starting to make themselves feel at home again. Before long, the dust & cobwebs had been cleared off all the furniture & toys, & Olivia was now seated at Hiram's workbench, coloring pictures with crayons. The overhead lamp was now turned on, providing enough light for Olivia to see properly while she drew, while Hiram (standing not too far away from his daughter) swept a big broom across the wooden-planked floor to clean up the dust & other things that were still on it, humming the bars of a jaunty Scottish tune as he did so.

_Daddy was right,_ Olivia thought to herself pleasantly, as she put the finishing touches on the picture she was coloring. _It's as though we never even left London in the first place! Already, I'm beginning to feel right at home... _After completing her picture, Olivia gently picked it up, & placed it down beside her on the surface of the table, before taking her crayons, & drawing a new picture with them on the blank sheet of paper that now lay in front of her. She started out with a landscape of a grassy, sunlit park, with puffy white clouds floating in the blue skies above...Then, she gradually added an image of herself smiling & holding hands with a just-as-happy-looking Basil & Dr. Dawson; Olivia & Basil's joined paws both clutched at a batch of rainbow balloons, while Basil (all decked out in his mouse detective uniform) held his magnifying glass in his free hand. Resting her head against the palm of her "left" paw, Olivia gazed down at the now-finished picture with a dreamy smile on her face; she couldn't stop thinking about how much she'd missed Basil & Dr. Dawson during her days of absence, & how much she was looking forward to visiting them...one day, soon...

Olivia was soon brought out of her blissful reverie when her ears perked up to the sound of knocking. Lifting her head up from her palm, Olivia turned to gaze in the direction of the front door, with her mouth hanging open in curiosity, as she wondered who the Flavershams' visitor could be. Upon hearing the knocking, Hiram stopped sweeping the floor, then rested his broom against one of his work-cabinets, & went over to the door. After opening said door with its usual creak, Hiram looked down...& saw a familiar furson standing in the threshold. He was a young mouse boy of 11, with features that—though inherited from his parents—mostly resembled those of Olivia & Doug, through some strange quirk of genetics or fate (or both); his fur was tan, & boasted light-tan markings that went all across his muzzle & underbelly, but his eyes were green, his nose was small & brown, & a wave of tan fur-hair adorned the top of his head (which sported wide & curvy cheekbones). He was dressed in the traditional attire of a Mousetorian schoolboy, with his outfit consisting of a rather colorful ensemble; a golden-yellow, long-sleeved shirt & a loose-fitting pair of olive-green trousers (which ended a few mouse inches above his ankles, & were held up by a brown leather belt with a golden buckle) covered the upper & lower halves of his body, while a single-breasted scarlet vest was worn open over the aforementioned shirt. His feet were enclosed in white socks & black shoes that had glimmering golden buckles on their fronts...but the brown English cap that normally fit snugly upon his head, was not in its usual place. Instead, the mouseling was holding the hat in his paws, wringing it about nervously as he looked up at Hiram with a shy, timid gaze. Shifting his weight a little, the lean, lanky lad greeted the toymaker timorously, "Hello...Uncle Hiram..." He let out a gulp, before placing his English cap back on his head, cupping his hands together, & wringing _them _instead, as he asked, "May I please come in?" [13]

Hiram was shocked to be seeing the young mouseling who had just addressed him; it was none other than his nephew, Timmy Flaversham! Hiram had to wonder what he was doing on Walnut Avenue, for this was _not_ a place he was supposed to be at this time of day—or at _any_ time, unless he was doing community service...or had otherwise been given permission to come here by the staff at St. Mary's. "Timmy, what are you doing here?" Hiram asked the boy. "Why aren't you at the youth hostel? Mother Caulfield & all the nuns & the priests should be working with you right now, trying to shape up your behavior."

In a mere matter of moments, Cousin Timmy's once-timid demeanor changed, & he quickly adopted an argumentative, confrontational attitude—an attitude not entirely unlike the one he would often display when he wanted to make himself appear more "macho"...but one he put on for reasons related to the rebellious nature he had acquired in the last few years. "All right, you wanna know the truth?" Cousin Timmy told Hiram in a tough tone-of-voice. "_I couldn't take it anymore!_ I _tried_ to tolerate my boring, dull, plain-Jane life at St. Mary's for 3 years, but that was _more_ than enough for me! And, so, you know what happened? I finally got fed up with it! I was sick & tired of having to deal with all those stuffed shirts, so I ran away! Yeah, that's what I did—I ran away from St. Mary's...& I _won't_ be going back there _ever__ again_, for as long as I live!"

"Oh, yes, you will, Timmy," Hiram said sternly, glaring down at his nephew with the _look_ indicating that he meant business. "I don't care how dull or boring you thought living at St. Mary's was. That's no excuse for not finding a way to improve your behavior, & I see no reason why I shouldn't take you back to the youth hostel."

"Tell that to Mother Caulfield!" Cousin Timmy retorted with a scoff. "She was getting tired of having to deal with me, too! Heck, she couldn't _wait_ until I left the hostel..."

"Well, it doesn't matter how anybody feels or thinks," Hiram replied. "You did all sorts of naughty things, & brought grief & shame to your poor mother & all your loved ones. And, now, you need to learn how to atone for your actions."

"I already apologized to Mom, Mother Caulfield, Mr. Altoid, & all those other people! I've said 'Hail, Mary' more times than I can even try to count! I did my community service, took my rehabilitation classes, attended my counseling sessions, went to church every Sunday & holy day..."

"And you still have a _long_ way to go, before you can even _consider_ yourself to be truly rehabilitated!" Hiram told Cousin Timmy with a harsh glare. "You're going back to St. Mary's, even if I have to drag you there by the ear!"

"_Are you __crazy__?_" Cousin Timmy blurted out in dismay. "I can't go back there, especially after I ran away! They'll torture me! They'll flog me! They'll condemn me to heck, & I'll be doomed to wander in eternal misery & suffering for the entire duration of my afterlife!"

"No one is ever that unfortunate, Timmy," Hiram said. "And, besides, if you apologize to Mother Caulfield, I'm sure she'll forgive you."

"But do you know how long it took me to get here from St. Mary's?" Cousin Timmy exclaimed, now having reached the point of hysterics. "First, I had to hide in a trash can, & wait until the garbage-mouse came to pick it up; then, after the garbage-mouse took the can outside, I jumped out onto the sidewalk, & ran all the way to the end of Coronation Street! _Then_, I had to hop aboard a human's carriage that stopped at Regents Park, & I went all the way to the other side, before stowing away on another carriage that took me to Crown Street. After that, I got off, made my way down the Crown Street offshoot, turned the corner past Sophie's Flower Shop, & walked all the way down Walnut Avenue, until I reached your toy shop! It took me _7 freakin' hours_ to get to your house from the North End, without even stopping for lunch, dinner, or a washroom break! If we went back to St. Mary's now, & didn't make any stops, we'd probably get there by 2:00 AM...& keel over from exhaustion before we could even talk to anybody!"

"Well, there's no need to worry about that," Hiram said, as the look on his face softened. "Olivia & I will take you down to St. Mary's in the morning, &, then, we'll meet with Mother Caulfield. Does that sound good to you?"

"I guess so," Cousin Timmy answered...even though he still wasn't feeling all that geared-up to go back to the youth hostel. "But where can I stay until we see Mother Caulfield tomorrow?" he asked, more to himself than to Hiram.

"As they say in Mexico, '_mi casa es su casa_', dear nephew," Hiram said with a smile, as he moved to gesture into the open doorway of the toy shop. With that, Cousin Timmy scampered into the main room, & Hiram followed him inside, shutting the door behind him as he did so. Despite Cousin Timmy's earlier reluctance to return to St. Mary's, Hiram saw his change in attitude as an assuring sign that they would be able to get this mess straightened out with little (if any) muss or fuss. He just hoped that Cousin Timmy would feel more inclined to commit himself to the process of rehabilitation...for his sake, as well as that of his loved ones.

* * *

A few minutes later, dusk had fallen over Walnut Avenue (as well as the rest of Mouse London), & Cousin Timmy had quickly gotten settled into his temporary lodgings. By this time, Olivia had finished drawing, & her pictures & crayons lay together on another part of Hiram's worktable; now, she was quietly playing with a small set of action figures, as Timmy watched her from behind. The two cousins had not spoken to one another since Timmy entered the Flavershams' home, but that quickly changed when Cousin Timmy broke the silence with a clearing of his throat. "Hello, Cousin Olivia," he greeted with a friendly smile, though Olivia didn't notice him as she was playing with her toys. "So...how have things been going, Livvy?" Timmy asked, calling his cousin by one of her pet names.

"Hmm...pretty good," Olivia replied.

"How was your time up at Grandpa Malcolm & Grandma Kayley's?" Cousin Timmy inquired, hoping to make conversation.

"Fine," Olivia answered.

"Anything new happen lately?"

"Aside from the fact that we just moved back into the toy shop," Olivia responded, "nothing much."

"Oh. OK," Cousin Timmy said. A few more moments of silence passed, as Timmy went over to the worktable, & sat down beside Olivia in a small chair. As he took his seat, Cousin Timmy continued, "You know, I was kinda surprised when I saw the moving vans at the toy shop. I thought you & Uncle Hiram weren't coming back to London for a while longer."

"That's what I thought, too," Olivia remarked, continuing to play with her toys. "But Daddy told me last night that if we moved back in early, we could reopen the toy shop, & take part in the big business boom that's hitting the toy industry."

"Ohhh...I see..." said Cousin Timmy, nodding his head in understanding. "So, when are you gonna reopen the toy shop?"

"Probably tomorrow," Olivia replied. "It depends on when we get settled in again, but it shouldn't take too long."

"OK," Cousin Timmy uttered.

Suddenly, before their conversations could continue, both mouselings reacted to the sound of Hiram calling out to them: "Children, I'm going out to pick up some dinner! Is there anything you'd like?"

"Maybe a meal from a restaurant, if you please?" Olivia asked politely.

"If it's all right with you, Uncle Hiram, I'd like a restaurant meal, too," Cousin Timmy assented, his speech slightly overlapping with Olivia's.

"OK," Hiram replied, as he prepared to exit the toy shop. "I'll be back in about an hour, if not sooner. Now, don't get into mischief, & I'm going to lock the door, so nobody tries to sneak in." With that, Hiram walked out the front door, & left the house (but not without shutting said door, & locking it). As soon as Hiram was gone, Olivia & Cousin Timmy turned to face one another with somewhat-anxious expressions. The notion of somebody trying to sneak into the Flavershams' toy shop had brought back unpleasant memories of Hiram's kidnapping last month, & those recollections left the mouselings with a rather unsettling feeling.

"Nobody's gonna sneak in," Cousin Timmy asked apprehensively, "are they, Livvy?"

"Well, if by 'nobody', you mean Ratigan & Fidget," Olivia answered, "then you can rest easy. They're both dead."

The confident tone that had marked Olivia's voice—& the equally-confident look on her face—soon disappeared, however, when she heard Timmy ask her skeptically, "Are you _sure_ about that, Livvy?" Upon listening to Cousin Timmy's question, Olivia paused in thoughtful consideration. The two villains _could_ be dead...After all, she had watched Fidget fall into the Thames River, & witnessed Ratigan plummeting from the hour hand of Big Ben! She assumed that Fidget had drowned, & Ratigan had fallen to his death...but what if Fidget was a good swimmer, & managed to make his way to the surface of the river? What if Ratigan had fallen onto the back of a passing bird? What if some other winged creature caught him, & brought him to safety? What if his fall had been broken when he landed in a trash barge? [12] Thinking about all the different possibilities made Olivia feel sick with worry. She hoped her father would come home soon, so he could reassure her that Ratigan & Fidget were, indeed, gone for good...unless Cousin Timmy's suspicions turned out to be true!

* * *

Not too long after he had left Walnut Avenue, Hiram was doing his best to be patient, as he looked around for a good place to stop for tonight's dinner. If it were earlier in the day, he would have taken his car, but since it was dusk (not to mention the fact that it takes longer for a mouse to travel London in a pint-sized vehicle), Hiram wanted to save some time by stowing away on the undercarriage of a human's hansom cab. Said cab was making its way through the West End of Mouse London, going northwards to the Covent Garden district. The street above the eponymous square, in addition to the world-famous Royal Opera House, also boasted several restaurants, & Hiram intended to visit one of them during his stay in Covent Garden. [14] Before Hiram knew it, the carriage had already arrived on the mouse street of Covent Lane (known to us humans as Floral Street), & after jumping onto the pavement to exit his ride, Hiram began walking down the sidewalk, looking at each place he passed...until, finally, he stopped when he got to a mouse building in an empty space on the street. This structure—one of the thousands of "stand-alone" buildings [15] that could be found in Mouse London—bore the address of 325 Covent Lane, & Hiram quickly saw that it was exactly the kind of establishment he was looking for!

The restaurant (which had been given the clever name of "A Taste Of America") resembled a New York brownstone, fashioned out of red brickwork; a red-&-white striped canopy hovered over the green double-doors, & in the eatery's large square windows, Hiram could see diners seated at tables, as they helped themselves to all sorts of delicious foods. Even as he stood outside, the toymaker could smell a wide variety of delectable aromas that graced his nostrils with their scent, beckoning him to come inside the restaurant, & see what it had to offer...

With that, Hiram walked into the building, which was crowded with customers—those who were dining at the tables, & those who were waiting in line to place their orders at the counter. Still wanting to save some time, Hiram got in the back of the shortest line, & when it was his turn to approach the counter, he told the cashier, "Excuse me...If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to place three orders."

"Aye, sir," the cashier said with a cheerful smile & a pleasant air. "What'll you have?"

Hiram looked up at the list of food & beverages for purchase (which was positioned above the counter), & scrutinized each item carefully. There were so many yummy things on the menu...so many, in fact, that it was almost impossible to choose any of them! It took a while for Hiram to make a decision, but, finally, he said, "I think...I'll have, for the first meal, a large order of curly fries with extra ketchup packets, a hot dog with plenty of mustard & pickles, & a root beer." The cashier began entering Hiram's orders into the cash register's built-in computer, typing out everything he said. "For the second order, I'll have another root beer with a large order of curly fries & extra ketchup packets, along with a double-cheeseburger."

"And for yourself?" the cashier asked Hiram, as he continued to type in the orders.

"Eh, I'll just have a regular hamburger & fries," Hiram replied.

With that, the cashier pressed a button on the cash register, prompting it to print out a piece of paper that listed all the items for Hiram's orders. As he took the printout out of the register, & went to bring it the kitchen staff, the cashier told Hiram, "Coming right up, sir!" Upon receiving the cashier's latest list of orders, the frycooks & other workers started to prepare the food, & the cashier gestured for Hiram to join the crowd of customers gathered outside a large window that gave them a view of the kitchen area. Hiram & the other patrons watched in absolute amazement when they saw the cooks & chefs making the meals, using an assortment of appliances & devices that they had never seen before in their entire lives! Still sporting looks of fascination on their faces, Hiram & his fellow bystanders saw the workers cutting & shredding potatoes with strange-looking machines (some of which looked very much like pencil sharpeners), cooking the potato pieces in deep-fat fryers, warming up weenies in special microwave ovens, & heating up hamburger patties on giant grills, among other tasks. A few members of the kitchen staff gathered packets of condiments for the customers, while some collected different soft drinks from soda machines, & others decorated the hamburgers, hot dogs, & other treats with all kinds of toppings—ketchup, mustard, pickles, onions, cheese, & whatnot. The sight of the food & beverages soon made the watching customers hungry...&, oh, how their mouths watered when the patties began sizzling & simmering on the grill, as the oil in the deep-fat fryers bubbled & boiled...

One by one, when each meal was prepared, the cashier called for one of the customers at the kitchen window to pick up their order, &, before long, Hiram was beckoned to the counter to fetch his food, which lay on the surface of the desk in red-&-white-checkered paper "bowls" & plates. Looking up at Hiram with a satisfied smile, the cashier said, "Yes, it's certainly fascinating, isn't it? And all this was made with brand-new methods of preparing food! In fact, 'A Taste Of America' has the distinction of being the mouse world's _very first_ fast-food restaurant! Soon, every other mouse city & town will follow in our footsteps, & there won't be a place you'll go that doesn't at least one fast-food joint!" [16]

"Yes..." Hiram muttered in reply, liking the sound of that idea.

"So, is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" inquired the cashier.

Hiram looked down at his family's meals, then up at the cashier, pointing at the food as he asked, "Umm...by any chance, can you make this to go?"

"No problem, sir!" the cashier replied, putting the food & condiment packets in white Styrofoam boxes, & the drinks in white Styrofoam cups (complete with plastic lids & straws). [17] When he had handed the food to Hiram, he also made sure to give him a complementary microwave oven that came with every "to-go" order. "There's an instruction manual inside the oven," the cashier explained, "& in the back, there's a power cord that you can plug into your wall. Just follow the directions, & you shouldn't have any trouble with it!"

"Thank you, sir!" Hiram told the cashier with a broad smile, as he took the food & microwave into his arms, & carried them outside. Oh, boy, he couldn't _wait_ to tell Olivia & Cousin Timmy about everything he had just seen while they ate their dinner—after he had heated it up in his new microwave, of course! No doubt, the offering of the oven had been an act of courtesy & consideration to Hiram (& all the others who made to-go orders), for the food would definitely get cold on the long journey home...Now that he thought about it, Hiram was reluctant to take another hansom cab back to Walnut Avenue—the earlier trip to Covent Lane had taken an entire half-hour, & when one considered the extra time he had spent at "A Taste Of America", he'd spent almost a whole hour away from the toy shop...& would probably be about 30 minutes late coming home, if he used the same mode of transportation. _Oh, if only there were a faster way to get across town! _Hiram thought to himself, as he started walking down the sidewalk, still carrying his newly-purchased items in his arms. _I wish there was some kind of little train or tram that could zip through Mouse London, & take you to where you wanted to go in hardly any time at all!_

No sooner did Hiram think this, than his ears perked up to the squealing sound of grinding metal. Turning to gaze in the direction of the noise, he soon saw a series of sleek white cabins (connected to each other with magnetic couplings) pulling up to stop right beside him. The vehicle moved & operated very much like a streetcar—such as the type you might find in New Mouse Orleans or Mouse San Francisco—but it looked a lot more like some kind of futuristic train, with clear windows, plush-padded seats, & doors that open & shut by themselves. The outside of the train was covered in white paint, adorned with adverts & signs for various things, & one of the middle cabins bore the following name in large black letters: "MOUSETRO". At the front & sides of the train, Hiram could see electric banners flashing the names of various mouse streets in his neighborhood: Crown Street (& Offshoot), Walnut Avenue, & whatnot.

Without a moment's pause, Hiram made his way towards the train, & stepped inside one of the cabins, as the automatic doors slid open to grant him entry. Once said doors were shut, Hiram sat down in one of the passenger seats, & watched in amazement as the Mousetro tram began the journey from Covent Lane, smoothly gliding along the edge of the pavement on the electric railings that guided it. Hiram couldn't help but stare out the window, watching the scenery of Mouse London whizzing past him in a picturesque panorama...The darkening cityscape was lit up by all sorts of electric signs & neon lights, which took on every shape, design, & color that you could imagine. The bright glow of incandescent & fluorescent lamps filled the windows of each building, & the air was alive with all kinds of music—many of which had never been heard by Mousetorian rodents before! Hiram & the other Mousetro passengers were simply stunned by the sights & sounds they were taking in. To them, it was all so breathtaking, so marvelous...

"And you wouldn't believe we just installed all this today!" a passenger mouse exclaimed. "Madame Ratburn & that DeWalters lady—Anya, Anna, something that had an 'A' on both ends—really worked hard to get that experiment of theirs off to a good head-start..."

"What experiment?" Hiram asked, totally lost as to what was going on.

"Oh, didn't you know?" the other mouse replied. "Miss DeWalters teamed up with Madame Ratburn & all the best scientists, inventors, & engineers in Mouse London to conduct a technology experiment. Queen Mousetoria got wind of it yesterday afternoon, & she was so excited about the idea, she called everybody in the city to Trafalgar Square, where she made an announcement about the experiment, & gave an official order for it to commence that same day! And look—all of the entire West End has working electricity, not to mention that we have microwave ovens, neon, new vehicles, fast-food restaurants...Oh, & our very first Mousetro tram! You're lucky to be a passenger on its maiden voyage!"

"Wow," Hiram gasped in amazement. "I never even knew all this was going on..."

"Where have you been living?" scoffed a rat lady in disbelief. "Under a rock?"

"Mouse Scotland, actually," Hiram answered matter-of-factly. The chastened rat lady immediately let out a mutter of realization, before apologizing to Hiram for not being aware of his whereabouts. The toymaker was quick to forgive the lady for her earlier comment...though he had to admit, after all the things he had seen & heard today, he almost felt as if he _had_ been living under a rock! _Talk about culture shock!_ Hiram thought in astonishment, unable to stop the flurry of questions that were now running through his mind, as the Mousetro tram continued on its way to Crown Street, its offshoot, & the neighboring roads...

* * *

With a speed of 120 mouse miles an hour, it had only taken the Mousetro tram 15 minutes to reach its destination, & Hiram couldn't help but smile to himself, as he got off his ride, & made his way down the offshoot of Crown Street (which, by the way, is known to us humans as King's Road), before turning the corner past Sophie's Flower Shop, & finally reaching the entrance of his toy shop. As soon as the front door was opened, Olivia & Cousin Timmy went over to greet Hiram...but they changed their decision to give him leg-hugs when they saw all the things he was carrying. "Wow," Olivia commented in awe. "Where you'd go to pick up dinner, Daddy?"

"It's a long story, wee ones," Hiram replied, straining with effort as his arms—now ready to give out, after so much traveling—struggled to keep holding the microwave, food, & drinks. "But I'll tell you about it during supper..." With that, Hiram, Olivia, & Cousin Timmy stepped into the hallway at the back of the building, before making a turn to enter the first room on their "left"—none other than the family's kitchen / dining room. The eating area, like the other rooms in the house, had a bare floor & walls; the counters, cabinets, cupboards, cooking equipment, furniture, & other items were all made out of plain oak wood. As Hiram came in to place the food, beverages, & microwave on the kitchen counter, he saw something that he hadn't noticed before—there was an electrical socket inserted into the wall! Olivia & Cousin Timmy told Hiram that they had seen other outlets of a similar nature in different parts of the house...but Hiram didn't recall installing them before he & Olivia left for Mouse Scotland! And since the house didn't show any signs of being disturbed, he didn't know how the outlets could have gotten there...unless they did so by magical means. [18]

_Oh, well, no matter, _Hiram thought dismissively, as he took out the instruction manual that directed him how to install the microwave. After he had hooked up the appliance, Hiram put each of the meals in the microwave, & heated it up for about 25 seconds, before taking the food out...& marveling at how fresh it looked, how warm it felt in his paws—almost as much as it did when it was first made at the fast-food restaurant! Sitting down at the big table, Olivia & Cousin Timmy could hardly hide the hungry looks on their faces, as Hiram handed his daughter & nephew their food. After sitting down with the two mouselings, Hiram began tucking into his dinner, & Olivia & Cousin Timmy did the same with their own meals.

While Hiram was merrily munching on his regular hamburger & fries, Olivia was greatly enjoying her hot dog with plenty of pickles & mustard (a mouth-puckering combination, indeed!), root beer, & ketchup-coated curly fries; Cousin Timmy could definitely say the same for his curly fries, root beer, & double-cheeseburger. Throughout the first several minutes of the evening feast, Hiram told Olivia & Cousin Timmy all about his adventures, describing the details about the wonderful things he had witnessed at the "Taste Of America" restaurant, & discussing the extraordinary events of his ride home on the Mousetro tram. Olivia & Cousin Timmy couldn't help but be amazed & astonished by the tales of Hiram's travels, listening to every word with absolute rapture...They were especially surprised to hear about the new technology that was beginning to sweep throughout Mouse London; already, the Flaversham family owned one of the first microwaves, & Olivia & Cousin Timmy both wanted to see what else was being made!

"Can we go check out all the new stuff in the city, Daddy?" Olivia asked Hiram excitedly.

"Of course, my bairn!" Hiram replied with a nod of his head. "After we get the toy shop ready for business again, I'll be happy to take you this weekend!"

"What about me, Uncle Hiram?" Cousin Timmy piped up, raising his paw. "Can I come, too?"

"Maybe," Hiram answered. "We'll have to ask Mother Caulfield about it, though." When he heard this, Cousin Timmy couldn't help but sulk a little; now, he could think of two new reasons why he didn't want to go back to St. Mary's...but the lad did his best not to dwell on those unpleasant feelings, as he went back to eating his supper with Olivia & Hiram.

For the rest of the time they were at the table, the Flavershams continued dining in silence, savoring each sample of food that they took into their mouths. Finally, when everyone was done with dinner, Hiram got up out of his chair, & went to take the left-over garbage, which he tossed into a nearby wastepaper basket; Olivia & Cousin Timmy then rose from the table, & walked in the direction of the door that led out into the hallway. As Hiram followed the two mouselings out of the kitchen / dining room, he told them, "Bedtime starts in about an hour, children." With that in mind, Olivia & Cousin Timmy both raced down the corridor to Olivia's room on the right end, which had already been set up for its occupants. After following Olivia inside the bedroom, Cousin Timmy shut the door behind him, & the two youths were left alone to entertain themselves in the 60 minutes allotted before the appointed time of retirement.

* * *

The time seemed to fly by for Olivia & Cousin Timmy, as they sat together on the floor of their room, quietly playing with some of the former's toys—Olivia, with her dancing doll, a jigsaw puzzle, a spinning top, & a set of Rainbow Blocks; Timmy, with a bouncing ball, a toy car, a set of marbles, & a smiling doll. [19] Before the mouselings had begun indulging in their leisurely fursuits, however, they had quickly prepared themselves for bed by changing into their nightclothes (Olivia donned her fuschia nightgown & matching hair-bow, & Timmy put on a set of light-blue pajamas that had been provided for him). The Flaversham cousins were having so much fun, that they didn't notice the clock striking 10:00 PM! As soon as the last chime of the hour faded away, Hiram came in, now dressed in a set of cream-colored pajamas, a purple terrycloth robe, & matching purple slippers. "Olivia, Timmy, it's beddy-bye time!" Hiram told the mouselings in a sing-song voice, as he went over to approach them.

Olivia immediately nodded at Hiram to indicate her understanding, & started putting up all the toys she & Cousin Timmy had been playing with. Timmy, however, pouted & sulked, as he put up a fuss, & whined, "I don't wanna go to bed! It's too early!"

"We _all_ think wee little mouselings should go to bed at this hour, Timmy," Hiram gently insisted, as he took his nephew, & led him over to the bed he would soon be sharing with Olivia.

Cousin Timmy just crossed his arms over his chest with defiant stubbornness, haughtily tilting his nose up in the air, as he smarted off, "I don't have to. This is a free country." [20]

"_Timmy..._" Hiram said with a stern glare.

Upon receiving _the look _from his uncle, Cousin Timmy decided that it would just be better to listen to Hiram, & not get in any trouble with him (he was in _enough_ trouble, already!). After giving a sigh of resignation, the boy rolled his eyes, & said, "Oh, OK...OK..." Then, with some reluctance, Cousin Timmy crawled into bed, & cuddled up under the covers; after seeing that his nephew had obeyed his orders, Hiram smiled pleasantly at Timmy, then pat his head, & kissed him on the cheek. (At this point, Cousin Timmy's more macho side kicked in, & he took a moment to wipe the kiss off with his pajama-top sleeve, making a face as he did so.)

Once she had put up all her toys, Olivia went over to the bed, & crawled under the blankets, making herself comfortable at Cousin Timmy's side. Hiram tucked both children in, then kissed Olivia on the nose, before getting up off the bed, & walking away to exit the room, as he told his daughter & nephew, "OK, mouselings, now you both sleep tight. Tomorrow, we're going off to the youth hostel to talk with Mother Caulfield." With that, Hiram turned off the lights, plunging the bedroom into darkness. "Goodnight, Olivia. Goodnight, Timmy," the toymaker said, as he left for his own room on the other side of the hall. "Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Daddy," Olivia replied.

"Goodnight, Uncle Hiram," Cousin Timmy responded. With that, the Flaversham cousins both lay down, rested their heads on their pillows, & closed their eyes. It didn't take long for the two mouselings to fall asleep, & as Olivia & Cousin Timmy slumbered peacefully through the night, the Dream Fairy made sure to bless them with dozens of delightful visions that danced in their sleepy gullivers... [21]

* * *

_**Monday, August 24, 1897**_

_(CUE MUSIC: "Grey Clouds" by Franz Liszt)_

The following morning was partly cloudy, with the blue skies often obscured by large puffs of cumulus that were painted in gentle shades of white & gray; occasionally, the sun would peek out through the clouds, only to hide behind them again a few minutes later. The atmospheric conditions provided a somewhat-bleak backdrop to the cityscape of Mouse London, as the Flavershams' car traveled down the streets of the North End. Olivia, Hiram, & Cousin Timmy were making their way to the mouse street of Coronation Street (known to us humans as Creighton Road), where Cousin Timmy had been lodging for the last 3 years...& would hopefully _continue_ to lodge, until he was successfully rehabilitated. And with all the behavior & attitude problems that Timmy had been exhibiting lately, that would take a while...

In the back seat of the car, Olivia was sitting by the left window, placing her "right" paw upon its glass surface, as she gazed at the passing scenery with a look of interest & fascination. By the right window, in his spot behind the driver's seat (where Hiram was), Cousin Timmy sat quietly; he wasn't the least bit interested in looking at the world outside. Instead, he was trapped in his own private hell, with a maelstrom of dark, brooding thoughts whirling in his head. Timmy contemplated about the chain of events that had led to his fursonality changes, his supposed "corruption", & his ultimate expulsion from the house where he once lived with his mother (Hiram's sister, Miriam)...He thought about how much he had begun to hate his mother for kicking him out of his home, & not allowing him to come back until he had changed his ways. But hadn't he been taking steps to improve his behavior? Hadn't he been trying to turn over a new leaf? Why wasn't his mother acknowledging his efforts to make himself a better mouse? The only reason Cousin Timmy could think of was that his mother hated _him_, too...& that was why he was feeling so reluctant to continue with this game anymore. He wanted to give up, & just let himself join the dregs of rodentkind, & not have to deal with all this turmoil...

Suddenly, Cousin Timmy's dismal musings were interrupted when he felt the sensation of the Flavershams' car jerking to a stop. Through the rear window, Timmy could see the familiar orphanages & other buildings that lined either side of Coronation Street...& when he & his relatives had gotten out of the vehicle, he saw the exterior of the place they were intending to visit—the very place he had run away from yesterday. One of Mouse London's more notorious "stand-alone" buildings, it was a tall, imposing structure of Gothic proportions & an impressive stature, towering over the Flavershams' car like a skyscraper; their Mousarati model was microscopic, compared to the size of it! Constructed out of cloudy-gray bricks, the edifice sported big stained-glass windows, & a set of concrete steps led to the oaken double-doors, which were hidden at the back of the alcove that made up the front entrance. Above the aforementioned alcove, there was a large, dark-colored metal sign, engraved with golden text that bore the name of this cold, gloomy, prison-like place:

**ST. MARY'S YOUTH HOSTEL & DELINQUENT HALL**

**FOR RUNAWAY & WAYWARD CHILDREN**

**ESTABLISHED 1865**

Olivia & Hiram (who, by the way, were both dressed in the respective ensembles of their regular "indoor" outfit & fancy outing clothes) both stared up at the façade of St. Mary's with Cousin Timmy, looking in the direction of the building they would soon be entering. It had once been one of the many orphanages on Coronation Street, but was converted to a youth hostel & juvenile detention center in 1865; for the past 32 years, the nuns & priests who worked at St. Mary's had offered food, clothing, & shelter to those who lived & lodged there, while also providing rehabilitation classes for the less-well-behaved residents...such as Cousin Timmy, for example.

After gazing up at the exterior of St. Mary's for a while, the members of the Flaversham family all looked down at each other in awkward silence...until Hiram gave a small clearing of his throat. "Well, shall we go in?" Hiram asked Olivia & Cousin Timmy with a timid smile, as he adjusted his blue outing jacket, & began making his way up the front stairs. Olivia (who was carrying her dancing doll, which she had brought from home) quickly followed after her father, but Cousin Timmy still stood outside St. Mary's. For the next several moments, he continued to gaze at the building in fear & awe, intimidated by the ominous presence of the large structure that loomed before him...until Olivia brought him out of his terrifying thoughts with the sound of her voice, as she called out to her cousin, "Timmy...Are you coming in with us?"

Cousin Timmy let out an anxious gulp, as he began making his way towards the entrance of St. Mary's to join his relatives. _This is it,_ he thought nervously. _There's no turning back now..._

* * *

A short time later, Hiram, Olivia, & Cousin Timmy had met up with Mother Caulfield, &, now, the three mice were sitting in small chairs in the private office of the head nun. Hiram was seated like the proper gentlemouse he was, with his paws cupped together (& placed in his lap). With her characteristic cheerfulness, Olivia smiled up at Mother Caulfield, clutching her dancing doll in her arms, & not looking the least bit intimidated by the holy (mouse) woman's presence, even as her shadow loomed over the Flavershams in a foreboding manner. And, as would be expected, Cousin Timmy was _not_ looking very pleased to be here—quite the opposite, actually. Both of his arms were crossed over his chest, as he cast a livid gaze to the floor, his eyebrows furrowed in fury; occasionally, his tail would twitch to & fro in a fit of agitation.

Mother Caulfield stood in front of Cousin Timmy & his relatives, &, although she was of average height, she seemed to tower over her seated visitors. Her figure was thin & slender, & gray fur covered her body from head to toe. Her straight dark-gray hair (which was becoming silver in several places) was tied in a bun in the back, & the furry flesh on her face was filled with crow's-feet, creases, wrinkles, & folds—the usual signs of aging. A big white bucktooth could be seen jutting out from her upper lip, a pair of small, pulled-back ears flanked either side of her head. Her slim limbs ended in small paws & feet, the former of which clutched tightly at a wooden ruler that she whacked against the palm of one hand. A small pink nose jutted out from between her sharp bluish-gray eyes, which glared out at the Flaversham family from underneath a furrowed set of angular dark-gray eyebrows, as she told them, "Mr. Flaversham...& dear, sweet, innocent little Olivia...it was very noble of you to come forward today. I must say, in all honesty, that I & the other staff members at St. Mary's were worried sick about Timothy..."—Cousin Timmy pouted when he heard his real name being mentioned—"...when we realized that he ran away. Thank you for returning him to our custody."

"It's no problem at all, Mother Caulfield," Hiram replied with a warm smile. "Olivia & I were all-too-happy to bring him back to the proper place where he needs to stay."

"I've no doubt of that," Mother Caulfield said, before turning to face Cousin Timmy with a stern look. Adjusting the golden pince-nez glasses perched upon her nose, Mother Caulfield began, "And Timothy..." [22]

As the look on his face became angrier, the boy snapped in irritation, "My name's not 'Timothy', it's 'Timmy'!"

"_DON'T CORRECT ME AGAIN, FLAVERSHAM!_" Mother Caulfield shouted harshly. Then, after she'd taken a moment to compose herself, she continued in a calmer tone-of-voice, "As I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted, you must remember why your mother sent you here. She did it for your own good...Ever since your father was eaten by a cat shortly after you were born, your mother's been too busy with her schoolteaching career to spend extra time with you—time she could have spent giving you moral guidance, teaching you how to live a proper life...But it's not her fault that you ended up the way you did. _Neither_ of you would have had _any_ problems if you had not become friends with that awful squirrel & his troublemaking cronies!"

Cousin Timmy could feel his anger growing by the second. Now, he was beginning to remember the #1 reason why he couldn't stand living at St. Mary's—it was a daily reminder of how much he had screwed up his life. "You think I don't know that?" Cousin Timmy blurted out to Mother Caulfield, his voice once again taking on a smart-alecky tone. "I feel bad enough about meeting Chutzpah already! And I'll admit I did some stupid things...all right, a _bunch_ of stupid things...but Mom didn't need to kick me out of the house! She was _so_ overreacting..."

"I think that a juvenile rap sheet with hundreds of charges for theft, robbery, mugging, vandalism, pollution, the defacing of public & private property, stalking, voyeurism, inappropriate fondling, & underage gambling & drinking would give _anyone_ a perfectly-good reason to 'overreact', as you put it," Mother Caulfield retorted. "And your dreadful behavior only _added_ to the stress that your mother was _already_ feeling from being a single, working mother with a full-time teaching job! She couldn't handle that stress, Timothy, & at some point, she _had_ to do something drastic in order to give you a chance to get back on the right path again, & also to give herself some much-needed peace of mind! And I can't say that I blame her!"

Cousin Timmy's fury was not quelled, however, & this was all-too-noticeable to Mother Caulfield & the others, as he shouted wrathfully, "How can you even _defend_ the woman who abandoned me, cut off her ties to me, & practically disowned me? If I turned out to be such a pain in the tail, then why didn't she have me _aborted_ when she was pregnant with me? It would have spared her a lot of grief if she had just gotten rid of me!"

"Timothy, don't say that," Mother Caulfield said, now looking hurt...& feeling sorry for what Cousin Timmy was going through.

But Timmy ignored the head nun, & continued with his hateful tirade against his mother: "As far as I'm concerned, that old broad never loved me at all!"

"Yes, she did!" Mother Caulfield cried, her features & tone-of-voice wracked with heartfelt care & concern. "That is why you are here now! She wanted to show you what it's like to be a good boy, a boy who takes the straight & narrow path, a boy who does the right thing...& who, may I add, also doesn't go stalking young women in the middle of the night!"

Cousin Timmy just rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Are you finished yet, Mother Caulfield?" he asked, taking on his smart-alecky tone once again.

"_NO__!_ I have _MUCH_ more to say to you, young mouse!" Mother Caulfield shouted in reply, as her expression became angry. "You are a child of God, & you must act like one, so..."

By this point, Cousin Timmy could no longer hide behind the mask of macho audacity, & the faux façade he had tried so hard to maintain quickly came crumbling down, as he became overpowered by the emotional tempest that was raging inside of him. "I'm not a child of God!" Cousin Timmy cried in a breaking voice. "I'm not a child of _anyone__!_" Hiram, struck with pity for his nephew, extended a paw to touch Cousin Timmy's shoulder, but the little boy pulled away, turning to glower angrily at his uncle with tears in his eyes. "Leave me alone!" he yelled, before running out of Mother Caulfield's office into the adjoining hallway, sobbing all the while.

_(CUE MUSIC: "Song Of India", from Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's "Sadko")_

When Hiram & Olivia had watched Cousin Timmy make his weepy departure, the two mice turned back to face Mother Caulfield with apologetic frowns, as Hiram said sadly, "I'm sorry, Mother Caulfield...I truly am."

"It's not your fault, Mr. Flaversham," the nun replied, now sporting a sympathetic frown. "It's his own fault he ended up in here." But, then, Mother Caulfield's face sported a gentle smile, as she added optimistically, "But fear not...There's still hope for young Timothy, & there _is_ a way we can remedy his situation! You see, Mr. Flaversham, St. Mary's has recently become a sponsor—& affiliate—of the Big Siblings program. By any chance, have you heard of it?"

Hiram thought about it for a few moments, then finally shook his head in negation, as he answered, "Errr...not really..."

"Well, basically, the Big Siblings program works like this," Mother Caulfield explained. "Children like Timothy can enlist in the program, &, upon being accepted, they will either have an older boy or girl assigned to serve as their surrogate sibling & role model, or they may select a candidate of their own choosing. This candidate may either be an older boy or girl, or an adult furson, that they know & trust. Now, if we let Timothy stay with you & your daughter, & any other kinsmice or acquaintances who might be living or lodging in or near your home, he _might_ learn a few things, & he won't end up back on the streets, in the company of bad rodents like Chutzpah."

"Oh, splendid, Mother Caulfield!" Hiram said, delighted by the news. "As soon as Timmy gets back, I'll tell him about..."

No sooner did Hiram say this, than Cousin Timmy ran back into Mother Caulfield's office. The boy was still crying...but, now, his tears were those of sadness. "I'm sorry, Mother Caulfield!" Cousin Timmy sobbed tearfully, as he burst through the door, & went over to hug the head nun. "I'm so sorry for being so mean to you, & saying all those awful things! I'm sorry for running away from the youth hostel last night! It's just that..."—he sniffled—"...I'm feeling so upset, because I've done all that bad stuff, & I've been such a bad kid...&, now, my mom doesn't love me anymore..."

"No, Timothy, she still loves you!" Mother Caulfield said gently, trying to comfort Cousin Timmy. "She just doesn't love the boy you've become..." Timmy sniffled again, & looked up at Mother Caulfield, who continued, "Your uncle & I were just talking about a program that you can enroll in...one that might help you overcome your fursonal troubles. Mr. Flaversham, would you care to explain further on this program?"

Hiram then proceeded to tell Cousin Timmy about the Big Siblings program, & when he finished hearing about it, Timmy became excited. "Oooh, can I join the Big Siblings program, Mother Caulfield?" he asked eagerly. "Please, please, please, please, please, please, please?"

Mother Caulfield couldn't help but chuckle warmly, delighted by Cousin Timmy's newfound enthusiasm. "Why, certainly, Timothy!" she replied with a smile. "I'll sign you up for it right away!"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Cousin Timmy exclaimed, hugging Mother Caulfield even more tightly. He even took a moment to stoop down, & vigorously kiss the nun's feet, before continuing, "You won't be disappointed this time, Mother Caulfield! I _PROMISE__!_"

"I'm sure you'll keep your word," Mother Caulfield said, still smiling as she reached her paw down to pat Cousin Timmy on the head. "But just in case, Mr. Altoid & I will be checking up on you frequently to see how you're doing. When we decide that your behavior has improved significantly enough, we'll allow you to return home to your mother, if you so choose. In the meantime, however, I think it would probably be better for you to take lodgings with your cousin & uncle, rather than stay here...Would that be all right, Timothy?"

"Sure," Cousin Timmy answered, returning the smile at Mother Caulfield, as he nodded his head in affirmation.

"Very well," said Mother Caulfield. "I'll let you go home with Mr. Flaversham & Olivia—er, Uncle Hiram & Cousin Olivia—& I'll tell Mr. Altoid to come see you in a few days." Now filled with renewed hope & optimism, Cousin Timmy leapt to his feet, & went over to join his relatives. "Well, I think that takes care of everything. I hope you continue to do well, everyone, & be careful on your way home," Mother Caulfield told the Flavershams.

"We will, Mother Caulfield," Hiram said pleasantly, as he & Olivia got up out of their chairs. "Thank you for everything." With that, the Flavershams turned to exit Mother Caulfield's office, with Cousin Timmy being the first to leave. The boy dashed through the hallway & out the oaken double-doors, doing a series of back-flips while he sprang merrily out of the building & down the stairs, as he yelped, hooted, & hollered in absolute jubilation! All those nasty, negative emotions he'd once been experiencing had left him, & his soul became filled with a feeling of total ecstasy! He felt happy & carefree, & it was as if nothing in the mouse world could bring him out of his state of bliss!

After Cousin Timmy finally made his way off the bottom stair in an acrobatic somersault, he gleefully started rushing towards the Flavershams' car; Olivia & Hiram soon followed in the same direction, as Mother Caulfield stepped out onto the porch to bid her visitors "goodbye" with a smile & a wave. Cousin Timmy couldn't help but return the same gestures, as he looked out at the head nun from the rear window of the Flavershams' car, which soon started up, & began driving down Coronation Street on the first leg of the long journey back to Walnut Avenue. Already, Cousin Timmy was looking forward to having lunch with Hiram & Olivia...& helping them reopen their toy shop during the first few days of his new phase of existence. Life with his relatives was going to be _so_ much better than life at St. Mary's, _that_ was for certain!

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: Abridged version of the 1st movement of Ludwig Van Beethoven's "Pastoral Symphony")_

For Olivia, Hiram, & Cousin Timmy, the next day began with breakfast, but after their morning meal, their usual routines were replaced by a most unusual ritual. After the Flavershams had put away their empty dishes & whatnot, Hiram beckoned for his daughter & nephew to follow him into the main room of the toy shop, which was only lit by the radiance of the morning sunlight that shone through the front window...but not for long. Hiram reached up to snap on the overhead light that hung over his worktable, & the main room quickly became filled with the garish glow from the lamp's electric bulb, which illuminated all the toys & furniture in a charming chiaroscuro of highlights & shadows. The cobwebs had all been swept away, & the main room was beginning to show signs of its original splendor...but there was a lot more work to be done!

And, so, Hiram began the first step in the lengthy process of preparing for the grand reopening of Flaversham's Toy Shop. Much as he did the other day, he took a broom, & swept up dust from the floors, & when he was done with that, he went on to dust all the shelves & cabinets with a feather duster. Then, Hiram went down the street to a new appliance store, where he purchased one of the first vacuum cleaners; after taking the device home, & plugging its electrical cord into one of the wall-sockets, he used the aforementioned vacuum cleaner to scour the floorboards for anything that his broom didn't pick up. Before too long, the floor & furniture were free of filth & grime, & Hiram could begin the next part of his pre-opening preparations—some good old _feng shui_...Flaversham style! After rearranging some of the spare furniture, & moving it around to his liking, Hiram decided to call it quits for the day...but, of course, his family's work had only just begun!

The next day began with breakfast, along with the same ritual of snapping on the overhead light, but today's schedule followed a different pattern. Hiram started by unpacking some of the unopened boxes from the earlier move, & unloading his toymaking tools onto his worktable. Then, he proceeded to set up his workspace, putting tools & whatnot in their proper places. After that, Hiram sat down at his table, & began working on a new set of toys, as Olivia & Cousin Timmy watched from either side of him with great interest. Before long, the two mouselings became eager to pitch in to help Hiram, & _all_ the Flavershams started working on new batches of toys for their potential customers. This labor continued throughout the duration of the day, & the one that followed after it...until Olivia, Hiram, & Cousin Timmy were finished making the new playthings (which they proceeded to put in the display window, & on all the shelves in the main room).

Finally, on the fourth day, Hiram performed the last two steps of the pre-opening process. He took a large piece of wood, & began decorating it with different colors of paint; once the pigment had dried off, Hiram took a ladder, & went outside to hang up the new sign, before scurrying back down to join Olivia & Cousin Timmy on the sunny sidewalk of Walnut Avenue. All the Flavershams looked up in a mixture of sheer awe, happiness, & pride at the ornate sign of their new-&-improved toy shop. Then, after a few moments, Hiram tilted his head down to face Olivia & Cousin Timmy, who looked back up at the toymaker with smiles that he was all-too-eager to return, as he exclaimed, "Well, children, I think we can safely say that Flaversham's Toy Shop is back in business!" With that, the 3 mice looked back up at the sign with broad smiles on their faces, brimming & beaming with heartfelt delight at their accomplishment.

The sign of Flaversham's Toy Shop did, indeed, seem to give a breath of new life to the eponymous establishment. The sign sported a turquoise background, with the name "Flaversham" carefully written on the top part in neat white block-lettering. The word "Toys" was displayed in a large, fancy-looking font, with all 4 letters capitalized, & colored a solid bright-purple. A thick-lined double-border (which was white on the inside, & turquoise on the outside) surrounded the text within. Oh, how beautiful the sign looked to the Flavershams...& how beautiful it would look to the customers that would soon be swarming into the toy shop like bees to a flowery meadow! Olivia, Hiram, & Cousin Timmy could hardly wait for their first day of business to begin...

* * *

_**Saturday, August 29, 1897**_

It didn't take long for word to reach the rest of Mouse London, &, soon, thanks to reports in the city newspapers (& a few magazines), all the micefolk had gotten wind that Hiram Flaversham had returned to the old toy shop on Walnut Avenue. There had been no ceremony or celebration to herald the homecoming of Mouse London's most famous toymaker, or the reopening of his business; instead, there were only quiet announcements in articles of various periodicals...although, in retrospect, Hiram wished that he had made some muss or fuss about the matter. He had been trying to attract customers all morning, but he wasn't having much success. Now, it was noon, & Hiram was beginning to wonder if he would have any luck on his first day...

The Scotsmouse was standing outside on the sunlit pavement of Walnut Avenue, walking about, & going up to passersby. Olivia & Cousin Timmy watched the action going on from behind the toy shop's front window, their noses & paws pressed to the glass. Smiling & acting in his usual friendly manner, Hiram approached all the different rodents who came walking in his direction, & addressed them individually, beginning with a fancy-looking gentlemouse. "Good day, sir, how are you? Would you care to buy some toys?" Hiram asked. The gentlemouse ignored him, & walked on, but Hiram didn't give up; he went over to a well-dressed rat lady, & said to her, "Oh, miss, good day to you! By any chance, are you in need of some toys lately?" The rat woman shook her head in negation, & continued on her way. Undaunted, Hiram went over to a young squirrel, & asked him, "Excuse me, sir, but is there anyone you know who might be liking a toy or two for their birthday?" The squirrel just gave a shrug of his shoulders, & he, too, walked on. By this point, Hiram was feeling discouraged. "Awww..." the toymaker moaned to himself, as his face fell, & his ears drooped in disappointment. Shaking his head sorrowfully, he said _sotto voce_, "I just don't get it! If the toymaking industry is supposed to be booming, why am I not having any luck?"

Suddenly, Hiram was brought out of his gloomy reverie when he heard the sound of footsteps. Walking down the street, was a somewhat-short male mouse of middle age, with a frame that bore a stout, portly figure. Covered in tan fur, he had short, straight platinum-blonde hair that was styled so that it curved down along the back of his head & ears, with several bangs hanging down over his brow, & any hair that came out from behind the ears neatly matching the contours of his wide & curvy cheeks. His ears were also large & curvy, & a big white bucktooth could be seen jutting out from his upper lip. A slightly-prominent pink nose jutted out from between his gentle green eyes, which lay beneath a bushy pair of thick, curved eyebrows that matched the flaxen color of his hair. His face was beginning to show some signs of aging (especially around the eyes), but it did not detract from his ultimately-attractive appearance. He was dressed in a smart, stylish manner, with crisp white shirt-sleeves & slimming lavender trousers covering the upper & lower halves of his body; his feet were contained in shiny black shoes, & his head was topped with a green porkpie hat (decorated with a red ribbon-stripe). Over his clothing, he wore a red overcoat with a crimson collar, cuffs, buttons, & pocket-flaps. In his paw, he clutched a wooden walking cane, which he whirled & twirled about in the air, as he continued parading down the pavement, whistling a merry tune.

Hiram knew the mouse who was walking in his direction; it was none other than Mr. P.R. Altoid, one of Mouse London's local benefactors (not to mention an occasional worker at St. Mary's, among several other things). Altoid was a good friend of the Flaversham family, & he was also one of the most generous & giving rodents in town! No doubt, he would be willing to provide some patronage to his comrades...& with that prospect in mind, Hiram rushed over to the older gentlemouse, trying vainly to contain his excitement, as he asked him, "Say, Mr. Altoid, by any chance are you needing some toys?"

Upon hearing this question, Mr. Altoid shook his head, & replied in his charming, handsome baritone voice, "Oh, no, I'm afraid not, yes?" [23] But when he took notice of Hiram's falling face, he added, "Well..."—a clearing of the throat—"...not for me, anyway, yes?" A beat of silence passed between the two mice, before Altoid continued, "But as it happens, Mr. Flaversham, there is currently a toy drive for orphan mouselings underway, yes? If I were to purchase some toys from your shop, I would be able to give a little something to those poor angels, which is what they so desperately need in light of their living conditions, yes?"

Looking up at Mr. Altoid with a hopeful gaze, Hiram inquired in haltering speech, "You...would really buy stuff...from _my_ shop?"

"Consider it a favor for yourself, & for those poor, needy mouselings, yes?" Altoid answered with a warm smile on his face.

Hiram was simply delighted with his recent change of luck; he couldn't believe how kind the hands of fate had been to him...& his eyes twinkled even _more_ merrily at the prospect of bringing joy to those who were less fortunate! "Well, a happy heart is better than a full purse, I always say," Hiram said cheerfully, as he beckoned for his friend to follow him into the toy shop. "Come along, Mr. Altoid!" With that, Altoid walked behind Hiram, who turned to make his way towards the entrance of the building. Smiling broadly, Hiram opened the front door, & grandly gestured inside with a bow & outstretched arms. Mr. Altoid couldn't help but return the smile at Hiram, nodding his head in appreciation, as he made his way into the toy shop, with Hiram soon following suit (but not without shutting the door behind him).

Upon entering the main room, Mr. Altoid went to take his seat on a wooden stool by the wall. As he planted his walking cane onto the floor, the middle-aged mouse began heaving for breath, exhausted from all the exercise he had taken during his lengthy trip from Coronation Street. As it turned out, the toy drive was not the _only_ reason for his journey to the Flavershams' house; today was his day to check up on Cousin Timmy, & see how he was doing, so he could report back to Mother Caulfield when he visited her at St. Mary's that evening. And faster than you can say "flamdoodle", Olivia & Cousin Timmy scampered over from the window to approach Mr. Altoid. "Hello, Mr. Altoid," Olivia greeted with a sweet smile, as she went over to give the older mouse a big hug. Mr. Altoid pat the mouseling on her head, before picking her up to place her on his lap, as Olivia asked, "How are you doing today?"

"Oh, I'm doing quite fine, yes?" Mr. Altoid replied pleasantly, smiling down at Olivia. "Thank you for asking, yes?" As he extended a paw to tousle Olivia's fur-hair, he inquired, "And how have you been, my dear, yes?"

"I'm doing pretty fine, too, myself," was Olivia's answer.

"Ah, wonderful! Wonderful, yes?" Altoid exclaimed, delighted to hear Olivia's words. Then, he turned his gaze to look down at Cousin Timmy, who faced Mr. Altoid with a nervous smile. Altoid picked up his cane, before pointing the end of it at Cousin Timmy, & gently pushing the tip against his nose in a playful manner, as he said with mock-sternness, "And I sincerely hope...that _you've_ also been doing fine, Timmy, yes?"

Cousin Timmy gulped a little, but tried not to act too anxiously in front of his friend, as he replied, "Yes, Mr. Altoid."

"Have we been on our best behavior, yes?" Mr. Altoid questioned Cousin Timmy, as the usual friendly smile returned to his features.

"Well...there _was_ a little period where I kinda..._back-slided_," Cousin Timmy answered hesitantly. When Mr. Altoid gave a disapproving frown in response, Timmy immediately changed his tune, hoping to win the older mouse's satisfaction. "But that's OK," he declared, "because I'm right back where I'm supposed to be!" The boy gave a clearing of his throat, before adding in an imitation of Mr. Altoid's trademark saying, "Yes?"

As soon as he heard this, Mr. Altoid's frown turned upside-down, & the earlier smile soon returned to his face, as if it had never even left. "Well, I'm very, very proud of you, Timmy, yes?" the now-quite-pleased benefactor complimented, fondly patting Cousin Timmy on the head. Beaming & nearly bursting with joy at the very thought of it, he added, "When you return home to your mother, she's going to be so pleased with how much her son has changed, yes? She'll be happy to have the sweet, loving child she once knew back in her life, yes?"

At this point, Cousin Timmy began to brighten, now encouraged by Mr. Altoid's upbeat demeanor & uplifting words. "Yeah," he said optimistically, as a smile began to spread across his own face. "I think you're right, Mr. Altoid!"

No sooner did Cousin Timmy say this, than Hiram walked over to Mr. Altoid & the two mouselings. Smiling down at the 3 mice, the toymaker started to remind his guest, "So, about those toys you were hoping to donate to the drive..."

"Oh, yes, of course, yes?" Mr. Altoid exclaimed, nodding his head in recognition. With that, Olivia slid down to the floor off of Altoid's lap, & both Flaversham cousins took their pal by either paw, helping him rise to his feet. "Ah, thank you so very much, yes?" Mr. Altoid told Olivia & Timmy gratefully, before holding his cane in his paw, as he went over to Hiram. "Now, then," Altoid asked the Scotsmouse, "why don't we have a look-see at your stock, Mr. Flaversham, yes?" And, so, Hiram & Mr. Altoid walked across the room to a set of shelves that were placed above the wooden cabinets. A wide variety of toys could be seen on these shelves: a dollhouse set, a smiling dolly mouse, a toy airplane, a Rainbow Beach Ball, a set of brilliantly-colored alphabet blocks, a cube puzzle, a big Rainbow Top, a multicolored kite, a set of puppets, a large Rainbow Slinky, a Rainbow Pinwheel, a toy sailboat, a merry-go-round toy, a toy drum, a Rainbow Xylophone, a marionette mouse, a bag of marbles, a jigsaw puzzle, a pail & shovel, a toy soldier, & a mechanical music box. All of the playthings had been painstakingly paw-crafted by Hiram, Olivia, & Cousin Timmy, & nothing but the utmost love & care had gone into their creation.

"So, see anything you like, Mr. Altoid?" Hiram asked the benefactor, as he gestured to the toys on the shelves.

After hemming & hawing for several moments, Mr. Altoid finally gestured to all the toys with a wave of his cane, as he replied, "Hmmm...they _all_ look like they'll make good donations for the toy drive, yes?" Shaking his head in amusement, as he planted his cane down in front of him, Altoid added, "I simply _don't_ know which ones to choose, yes?"

"If you really wanted to donate all those toys on those shelves to the drive...why didn't you just say so?" Hiram asked Mr. Altoid, staring at him in a mixture of puzzlement & pleasant surprise.

"I believe I did say so...yes?" Mr. Altoid remarked, turning to face Hiram.

_(CUE MUSIC: "Notturno", from Leo Delibes' "Coppelia")_

In any case, Hiram was all-too-happy to take the toys off of the shelves, & place them together on his worktable. After quickly counting the number of toys, & checking the price tags on each of them, Hiram took out a calculator, & used it to determine the amount of money that Altoid would need in order to complete the purchase. As the toymaker took the printed readout from the machine, & looked at it, he said, "According to my calculations, Mr. Altoid...that'll be about...140 pounds, 5 shillings, 4 pence, & 2 guineas."

With that, Mr. Altoid reached into his coat pockets, & withdrew 14 10-pound notes, as well as 10 golden pound coins. "There you are," Altoid said amiably, as he handed the money to Hiram. "That should be enough, yes?"

Hiram put all the purchased toys into a few sacks, & after handing said sacks to Mr. Altoid, he took a look at the pound notes & coins that had just been given to him...before doing a double-take when he saw that Altoid had added a few pounds more than the actual amount he'd mentioned to his patron. "Mr. Altoid," Hiram remarked in puzzlement, "you gave me a few extra pounds more than you really needed to pay."

"Oh, it's not that important, really, yes?" Altoid replied glibly, as he took the sacks of toys into his arms. "As you always say, Mr. Flaversham, a happy heart is better than a full purse, yes?" Smiling at Hiram once more before he began to exit the building, he added, "Keep the change, yes?"

Hiram couldn't help but burst into a wide grin, astonished & delighted by Mr. Altoid's generosity, as his first customer of the day walked out of the toy shop, & started heading down the pavement of Walnut Avenue, still clutching the sacks of toys he was carrying. As he left, the middle-aged do-gooder turned to smile & wave "goodbye" to a happy-looking Olivia, Hiram, & Cousin Timmy, who eagerly returned the genial gestures. You can well imagine how thrilled the Flavershams were feeling after the success of their first business transaction—& that was merely the _start_ of their good fortune! As luck would have it, Mr. Altoid wasn't the _only_ furson who would pay a visit to the family's toy shop...

That evening, at sunset, Hiram, Olivia, & Cousin Timmy had closed up for the night, &, now, they were all seated together at the worktable. With each passing second, the 3 mice were becoming more & more excited, as they counted the total sales amount that they'd received over the day. Already, it seemed that their business was picking up again, for all the toys in the shop had now vanished from the shelves & other display places. "Well, how much do we have, Daddy?" Olivia asked eagerly, bouncing up & down with excitement. "How much do we have?"

"Do we have enough money to keep the toy shop running?" Cousin Timmy questioned, practically hanging on the edge of his seat.

The Flaversham cousins continued to jabber in their uncontained enthusiasm, until Hiram finally finished counting the money, & (with the help of his calculator) determined the full sum of their revenue. Beaming with joy as he showed Olivia & Cousin Timmy the readout from the adding machine, the toymaker replied, "I'd say that 257 pounds, 56 shillings, 27 pence, & 16 guineas ought to keep us going for a while."

Upon hearing the wonderful news, Olivia & Cousin Timmy both stood up, cheering for the blessings that had been showered upon them, & Hiram was quick to join in the festive mood. "This calls for a celebration!" Hiram said happily, as he got up from his seat. "What do you say we go out for a family night on the town?" Olivia & Cousin Timmy both liked the sound of that, & the two mouselings muttered in agreement, nodding their heads up & down. With that, Hiram went to open the shop door, & walked outside, as Olivia & Cousin Timmy eagerly followed him. They simply couldn't wait to spend time with Hiram on their big-city adventures, as they helped themselves to a delicious dinner, visited all sorts of exciting attractions, & witnessed the wonders of the new technology that was continuing to sweep throughout Mouse London...Tonight was certainly going to be an eventful evening for the Flavershams!

* * *

_**Tuesday, September 22, 1897**_

The days of August passed, progressing into days of autumn, as September came rolling around in a flurry of fall leaves, blown by the chilly winds that were whistling through the streets of Mouse London. The foliage of the trees in the city's parks & other places was painted in pigments of red, orange, golden, & brown, as the grass turned dull, & the flowers of summer were replaced by their late-season cousins. Yet, as Mother Nature adapted to the changes in her calendar, life in the rodent world continued as normally as it ever had...well, for the last month, anyway. In the West End of Mouse London, things were awfully busy in the large cluster of factory plants at 853 Industrial Square (known to us humans as Golden Square). And that was _precisely_ how Madame Ratburn & Anya wanted things to be, especially on this day—the first-month anniversary of the launch of their experiment...

The Mouse Gypsy psychic & her accomplice were standing on a balcony that gave them a good view of the activity going on inside the main building of their New Technology Factory. Male & female rodents of all ages, races, species, religions, & nationalities were working together side by side, putting aside all prejudices (if they had any) in furtherance of the common goal they all shared—to create new inventions & devices that would improve the lives of their fellow citizens, as well as the lives of all the other rodents of the world. As Madame Ratburn had correctly predicted, the effects of the experiment were, indeed, far-reaching; within just 30 days, the new technology had spread all the way from Europe to North America, & all the other mouse continents were now starting to receive the same benefits. Of course, Anya _did_ say that the process of technological progress would take some time...Great things always did. And, yet, Madame Ratburn simply couldn't _wait_ for the new technology to hit Mouse Asia, South America, Africa, & Australia! She kept thinking about all the wonderful blessings that awaited those rodent civilizations, as she continued to watch the factory workers with Anya for a while longer...until Anya finally turned to her with a smile, & said, "It looks like everything's in good shape, Madame Ratburn! Shall we return to our meeting with Her Majesty?"

"Yes," Madame Ratburn replied, returning the smile at Anya, as she nodded her head. "Let's."

And, so, the saviors of Mouse London turned to leave the balcony, & walked through the double-doors that led into the meeting room, where they conversed & brainstormed with the smartest minds that the miniature city had to offer...Well, that was what the two _normally_ did, anyway. Today, however, their only guest was Queen Mousetoria, who sat in a chair at the far end of a long mahogany table. Dressed in her regular regal attire, with a bit of modest makeup adorning her plump face, she hadn't changed one bit in the two months that had passed since the events of her Diamond Jubilee. The elderly monarch with a grandmotherly appeal watched Madame Ratburn & Anya come back into the meeting room, before joining her at the table once again, as they took their places in seats on either side of her. "So, pray tell, how is the experiment coming along?" Queen Mousetoria asked her gracious hosts. When Anya gave a pleasant report on the progress of the new technology, Her Majesty could barely contain her glee! "Oh, most excellent!" she exclaimed ecstatically, before letting out a happy chuckle, & continuing, "You know, we _really_ ought to schedule a press conference at Buckingham Palace sometime this week! I'm quite sure that my subjects—& the other rodents of the world—would be _fascinated_ to hear the inside story of how you got the idea for this brilliant technology! Why, I'm curious to know all the details, myself!"

"Don't worry, Your Highness," Anya replied warmly. "We'd be more than happy to give you the proverbial scoop! Just give us the date & time, & you've got yourself a deal!"

"Splendid!" Queen Mousetoria cried cheerfully. "I really do hope to see you & Madame Ratburn at the palace! I'll be sure to have reporters for every form of mass media with me!"

"Sounds like a plan, Your Majesty," Madame Ratburn said pleasantly. "We look forward to every moment of the event."

With that, Queen Mousetoria rose from her seat, & exited the meeting room of the New Technology Factory (but not without waving to her hosts, as she bid them "farewell"). Once the Queen had finally departed, Madame Ratburn & Anya turned to face each other with broad smiles. The results of their experiment had turned out to be far better than _either_ of them had anticipated...& they could only expect them to _continue_ to get better, as time went on. It looked as though Mouse London was, indeed, going to become the beacon of industrial & social progress...just as Madame Ratburn & Anya hoped it would be.

* * *

[1] Like their human counterparts, the Mouse Gypsies have their own fursonal code of cleanliness & hygiene that they must follow; it's similar to the Jewish kosher laws or Islamic rules of purity. (If you're interested to learn more about the Gypsies' sanitation regulations—or anything about Gypsies in general—you can find out additional information in the mirror of the Patrin Web Journal at the Geocities archive site.)

[2] In previous versions of many of my GMD fanfiction stories (including this one), I have described the Month Of Change as having affected technology & society. It did, indeed, have an impact on both things, but steps toward social progress in the mouse world actually began long before the events of my sequel. I will make sure to emphasize or explain this in future chapters of GMD 2, along with any new GMD fanfics or updated versions of old stories I may write in the future.

(And, for that matter, I also have plans to write an essay about the changes & developments in different aspects of Mousetorian society in the decades leading up to the time of the original movie & the sequel; this essay, "Overcoming Differences", will be published on my GMD website [linked to my profile page], so keep an eye out for it when it's finished. ;-) )

[3] Yet another one of the limitations of Madame Ratburn's powers...

[4] Whenever Jacob DeWalters told his granddaughter stories about his life in Mouse London, he would sometimes tell Anya about Basil's occasional trips to the Mouse Gypsy Caravan to enlist Madame Ratburn's help on cases.

[5] In the film version of the sequel, Leesha, Gordon, & their four mouselings are the middle daughter, son-in-law, & other grandchildren of Grandma & Grandpa Flaversham, as opposed to their next-door neighbors.

[6] My personal choice for the dates of the original movie are July 21 & 22 of 1897 (along with the week following the 22nd), which are very close to the dates Irene Relda suggested in the first version of her "Dating The Disney Film" essay. As for the date seen on the newspaper at the end of the film...I'd call that a flub on the part of the animators. XD (Or a vision of an alternate universe...Ehh, whatever.)

[7] As to why Doug doesn't look like any of his siblings...I have no explanation, other than 'Aristocats Syndrome'.

[8] The song holds additional significance for Olivia, but this will be explained further in Chapter 3.

[9] Olivia doesn't know it yet, but by this time, the Holmesington School District has changed its name to Basil Of Baker Street School District.

[10] In addition to my never-ending list of personal projects (fandom-related & otherwise), I now have plans for several GMD 2 tie-in fanfics...one of which features the Flavershams, Basil, & Dr. Dawson, & is set during the events that are supposed to have transpired in the time between the last two scenes of the original movie. Keep an eye out for "_The Week After_", coming soon from The Mouse Avenger. ;-)

[11] Since it's illegal for humans to drive on the shoulder of a road, that gives plenty of safe space for rodents to maneuver their own vehicles up & down the streets...unless a human driver gets into a tragic accident, & ends up severely injuring or killing the rodent commuters who cannot dodge out of the way in time. Thankfully, these accidents happen on rare occasions.

[12] Traditionally, mouse towns & cities have their _own_ names for roads & streets (but will make exceptions, like Baker Street, Montague Street, Fleet Street, Oxford Street, Abbey Road, Piccadilly Street, Paddington Street, etc.). Many of the names for mouse streets will serve symbolic purposes, have something to do with rodents, be derived from rodent-based puns, be named after famous rodent individuals, have something to do with English history / culture, be named after things of a particular type (like birds, trees, or flowers), or otherwise just sound pretty. In any case, the existence of differently-named mouse streets provides just one example of the many ways that the rodent world stands _apart_ from the human world, despite all the similarities & parallels between them.

[13] I can definitely assure you that that paragraph is _the_ _longest one_ in the entire chapter (it took up a whole page in Word!). But, for your sake, I will do my best to ensure that it is the _only_ paragraph of that length in the entire story. ^^;;

[14] How many times have we seen _that_ idea used in a GMD fanfic?

[15] I sincerely wish to thank Mapquest, Wikipedia, & London Online for helping me with research on (Mouse) London landmarks, streets, districts, boroughs, & other things related to the geography of the city.

[16] Such structures do exist in the mouse world, & in more places than you think. Whenever there's areas of open space available, rodents will erect "stand-alone" buildings (like the "Taste Of America" restaurant, & others that will be mentioned or featured throughout the course of the fanfic). Mysteriously, these buildings manage to stay invisible to humans...yet this only adds to the mystique & magical charm that surrounds the mouse world!

[17] Does anyone else think of Cookie from "_Atlantis: The Lost Empire_" when they read that line?

[18] Thankfully, like the Styrofoam containers we use today, the boxes & cups are free of any CFCs.

[19] As a matter of fact, the outlets did, indeed, get into the Flavershams' home by magical means. With the help of certain paranormal powers, Madame Ratburn was able to instantly install electrical sockets in designated areas of each room in the toy shop...& the same can be said for every other building in Mouse London. Hence, the ability for all the appliances & whatnot to work.

[20] Yes, a _girl _doll...Cousin Timmy's more effeminate characteristics will be alluded to in further depth later on.

[21] Those of you readers who are Kubrick fans (like myself) will notice several references to his films throughout the sequel, including this one.

[22] I don't normally like to use Nadsat slang in my GMD fics—unless I'm intentionally making "_Clockwork Orange_" references (which I won't be doing until later on in the story), or writing from the 'furspective' of one of my Mouse Droog characters...none of whom will be appearing in the fanfic. The only reason I used the word "gulliver" at this particular point in the chapter, is because I already mentioned the word "head"—for which there aren't enough synonyms, unfortunately—& I want to do my best to refrain from redundant repetition, which was one of my biggest writing flaws in earlier versions of GMD 2.

[23] Mother Caulfield has a fursonal habit of referring to young rodents by their given names.

[24] I imagine that, in the film version of the sequel, Aubrey Morris (or a _very_ darn good impersonator, should he become unavailable for whatever reason) will provide the voice of Mr. Altoid...& I'm pretty sure that Mr. Morris' vocal range is a baritone (but if I'm wrong, feel free to correct me on that).


	3. Chapter 2: The Month Of Change

**THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE 2: A NEW BEGINNING  
**A "_Great Mouse Detective_" Fanfiction By The Mouse Avenger

Chapter 2:  
The Month Of Change

_**Tuesday, September 22, 1897**_

The sun was shining brightly in the clear, blue September skies, & Mouse London was alive with activity! On every street, you could see a cavalcade of cars, trucks, & vans parading down the shoulders of the cobblestoned lanes, as pedestrians promenaded down the pavements in different fashions & forms of dress; elegant gowns & fancy suits clashed with T-shirts, jeans, sneakers, & other outfits of a modern persuasion, all in a swirling sea of garments that were splashed in all the colors of the rainbow! Neon signs & electric lights could be found in every mouse building, & there wasn't a single, solitary structure—no, not one place!—that didn't have at least one of the _millions_ of gadgets & gizmos that had been produced in the last month. PA systems & stereos released the resonating strains of jazz, funk, blues, hip-hop, rap, rock-&-roll, techno, New Wave, & other _musique nouveau_. Restaurants of every variety served a veritable collection of countless confections & culinary delights—some old, some new—while the latest slang terms & expressions peppered rodents' conversations. Male & female fursons of all races, species, ages, nationalities, religions, & types interacted together in perfect peace & harmony, with no bias or bigotry to be found among the pint-sized populace. Rodent men & women no longer remained contained in separate spheres, but worked _together_ inside & outside the home. This was the birth of a new era! This was the dawn of the Neo-Mousetorian Age!

In the West End of Mouse London, inside the place that was known as Cumberwell Market to rodent citizens (& Cumberland Market to hominoid citizens), there was a large mouse marketplace that spread all throughout the square, mysteriously managing to be unseen by any humans who wandered the area. [1] Nicely-dressed rodent denizens in old & new outfits walked through the bazaar, as the sounds of cheering, talking, conversing, laughing, shouting, wailing, singing, & clamoring could be heard from mouse miles around. Lots of rodent kids were running around, chasing each other, playing games, & suchnot, while some of them were being pursued & called out to by their frantic mothers. Other rodent families paraded through the market & the surrounding streets, with the children clutching a favorite toy or two, & some of the mothers holding big, brightly-colored umbrellas in their paws to keep off the sun. Newspaper mouselings in sporty clothing & English caps looked around every which-way, scouting for potential customers, as they hawked copies of the afternoon editions of every gazette to them. Mouse vendors stood at booths, discussing with shoppers, & helping them purchase from a wide variety of items—toys, books, purses & other accessories, clothing, jewelry, food (especially dishes fashioned out of cheese), school supplies, flowers, novelties, & just about anything else you could think of. Smoke & steam emitted from the ovens, kettles, & appliances at the food stands, while other costermongers peddled their culinary wares in wheeled carts.

One of these food vendors was an elderly Scotsmouse, who was of average height & weight for a male mouse for his age. His body was covered in light-brown fur, & thinning light-silver hair (along with a matching moustache & pair of sideburns) adorned his face. A slightly-prominent pink nose was juxtaposed between his hazel eyes, & a big white bucktooth jutted out from his upper lip. A pair of curvy pink ears (both of average size) flanked either side of his head, which sported wide & curvy cheekbones. Pale-green shirt-sleeves covered his upper half, while dark-green trousers adorned his lower half; a medium-sized red bow-tie fastened the wings of his upturned shirt collar, & a chartreuse apron covered much of his clothing. His feet were snugly contained in large black shoes, & a medium-sized pair of round glasses were perched upon his nose. The peddler—who was affectionately referred to by the micefolk as Old Mouse Porter—was trying to keep a rowdy bunch of naughty mouselings away from his produce stand, which was filled with all kinds of delicious fruits & vegetables (all of which had been grown & harvested on Porter's farm on the outskirts of Mouse London).

As he vainly attempted to chase the mouselings off, Old Mouse Porter shouted, "Away! Away, you naughty rascals! Shoo! I mean it, now..." While turning to deal with one of the mischievous youths, Porter got his tail yanked by another mouseling, & he began to give chase after him. "Get back here, you little urchin!" Old Mouse Porter snarled, as he ran after the second mouseling...only to have his efforts to capture him fail. Before he could get ahold of the ill-disciplined imp, the farmer fell into a pool of mud, getting his clothes & glasses filthy. The naughty mouselings laughed at Old Mouse Porter, & ran away from the area, but Porter still wanted to make sure those scalawags got what they deserved. He started chasing after the mouselings again...but with his glasses all muddied up, he couldn't see, & he accidentally crashed right into his produce stand, causing it to fall & break apart—an unfortunate event that always seemed to befall Old Mouse Porter, much to his never-ending dismay. When he realized what he had done, Old Mouse Porter (understandably) became quite upset, & he moaned, "Oh, Great Belin! Not again!"

Soon, Old Mouse Porter was joined by another figure—a Scotsmouse, like himself. Unlike Porter, however, this mouse was _extremely_ tall, & his figure was _extremely_ stout (almost corpulent)—especially in the area of his midsection. His fur was tan, & his face was adorned with blazing red-orange hair, along with a moustache, beard, & sideburns of a matching color (all of which were kept neatly-trimmed & tidy). A pair of long whiskers flanked either side of his slightly-prominent dark-brown nose, &, like Old Mouse Porter, a big white bucktooth protruded from his upper lip. Thick, bushy red-orange eyebrows topped his pair of stern blue eyes, & small pink ears flanked either side of his head, which also sported wide & curvy cheekbones. His limbs were stout, & his paws & feet were of a massive size. He was dressed in a navy-blue bobby's uniform (consisting of a tunic & trousers), along with a matching helmet, white silk gloves, & shiny black shoes; in one paw, he clutched a wooden nightstick (one of the items that he could usually be seen carrying around with him). The rodents of the Mouse London police force considered him to be their finest associate; to family & friends, he was known as Scott, but all law-abiding locals of the London mousetropolis respectfully referred to him as Constable McBrusque.

"Whatever is the matter, Old Mouse Porter?" McBrusque asked sympathetically, taking pity upon the unlucky peddler...who was now stumbling about blindly, & trying to feel his way around, as he fumbled clumsily along the ground.

"My glasses are all muddy, & I have nothing to clean 'em with," Old Mouse Porter replied irritatedly, as he continued to grope & stagger about in his state of sightlessness, brought on by the thick coatings of sludge that caked the lenses of his spectacles. "How can I expect to see well enough to fix my produce stand without them?"

"Allow me," Constable McBrusque said politely, taking the muddy glasses off of Old Mouse Porter's nose. After taking a moment to spit on the lenses, the bobby wiped them down with a few rubs of his tunic sleeve, before returning the bifocals to Porter. When he saw how nice & sparkling clean his spectacles were, the costermonger couldn't help but burst into a wide smile.

"Oh, thank you, Constable McBrusque!" Old Mouse Porter exclaimed gratefully, as he went over to shake the officer's paw. "You've done me a great service!"

"Don't mention it, Porter," Constable McBrusque responded with a genial smile. "After all, that's what neighbors are for."

"Yes, things are certainly much nicer in Mouse London, now that Professor Ratigan & his minions are gone," commented one of the other mouse vendors, who had witnessed the incident with Old Mouse Porter. "Why, they're nicer than they've ever been before!"

"Especially when we've got that new technology & stuff around!" added a young paperboy, who had been wandering through Cumberwell Market, hawking the newspapers he held in his paws. After uttering his recent remark, the newspaper mouse continued on his rounds, making his way out of the market to enter Regents Park (which lay not too far away). Upon arriving at the aforementioned place, the newspaper mouse strolled down the cement walkways, heralding the latest headlines to passersby & park-goers in his Brooklyn accent, in the hopes of receiving their patronage. One mouse couple, seated at a park bench, offered to buy one of the mouse's newspapers; after paying the lad two shillings, they both took a copy of the afternoon edition of "_The Illustrated London Mouse_". The male mouse of the couple opened the pages of the paper, & took a look at the articles inside, gasping with delight at each thing he read.

_(CUE SONG: "This Month Of Change")_

At one point, the male mouse turned to face his wife, & showed her one of the pages of their newly-purchased newspaper, which featured part of an article about the latest invention that had been made at the New Technology Factory. Pointing to the lavishly-colored photo of the machine that came with the aforementioned article, the male mouse declared in surprise...

_**Lookie here!  
**__**They've just produced new electronic maps!**_

But the male mouse's wife couldn't comprehend why her husband was acting so excited about this announcement, for she was certain that this new technology was all merely part of a passing craze—a wave of "stunning industrial developments" intended to incite materialistic greed & consumerism with convoluted contraptions that were sure to go off in the market in a short period of time. Continuing to work on her sewing, the male mouse's wife shook her head dismissively, as she made her cynical reply...

_**Oh, Henry, dear,  
**__**You don't realize we're being played for saps!**_

Upon hearing this, the male mouse immediately gathered his wife into his arms, gazing deeply into her eyes, as he held her against him. Trying to convince his beloved that her fears were unjustified, the male mouse told his wife with an elated expression on his face...

_**But, Lulu, love,  
**__**Our world is not the way it used to be!**_

"It's _NOT_?" the male mouse's wife asked in incredulity. Unable to contain his enthusiasm, her husband happily replied...

_**No! This month of change  
**__**Has changed the very course of history!**_

The mouse couple, the newspaper boy, & the rest of the rodents in Regents Park quickly launched into a rousing chorus, singing & dancing together in perfect harmony, as they reveled in their heartfelt happiness. All the other inhabitants of Mouse London—the pedestrians, peddlers, preachers, teachers, mousicians, magicians, artists, authors, tinkers, tailors, soldiers, sailors, students, & whatnot—casually carried on about their business, enjoying the blessings & benefits that now graced their daily lives, as they joyfully joined in the merry melody that burst forth from their lips...

_**This month of change,  
**__**It's turned our lives around!  
**__**This month of change,  
**__**It's turned London upside-down!  
**__**This month of change,**_

_**It's made all good & proper!  
**__**May we live & prosper  
**__**On this merry month of change,  
**__**This month of change!**_

In one particular building, a shopkeeper mouse watched his customers checking out the various items he had on display in his music store. Traditional instruments, such as the violin & oboe, could be seen alongside newer instruments like synthesizers, euphoniums, vocoders, electric guitars, digi-drums, & so on—all of which, the customers were eager to purchase. To his perusing patrons, the shopkeeper mouse sang...

_**This month of change  
**__**Has made me well-to-do!  
**__**I have new kinds of instruments  
**__**To sell to all of you!**_

One of the customers—a jazz mousician—spotted a saxophone resting on a display stand. He couldn't wait to buy it...but not without trying it out, first! As he took the aforementioned instrument into his paws, the jazz mousician exclaimed...

_**This saxophone of purest gold  
**__**Will make the sweetest sound for me!**_

The jazz mousician proceeded to play a snazzy tune on the saxophone, before pulling its mouthpiece away from his lips...& smiling in satisfaction. His words, indeed, had rung true! And not only was the jazz mousician pleased with the pleasant sound of the saxophone, but he was now eager to buy the instrument! The jazz mousician went over to the front counter to make his purchase, & after the transaction had been completed, the shopkeeper's latest customer left the music store with his newly-bought saxophone in his paws. As he took the money that had been given to him by his gracious patron, & placed it in his cash register, the shopkeeper sang happily...

_**And with my customer satisfied,  
**__**That means another pound for me!**_

Meanwhile, in another part of Mouse London, the area of Jollywood Square (known to us humans as Oakley Square) was busy & bustling with activity...mainly at Zenith Movie Studios. On Set B, a big fight scene was being filmed for an upcoming action movie, & the hero was to battle a band of villainous assassins with the use of his bare paws...but the actor portraying the male lead couldn't seem to muster the courage to even put up his dukes! After witnessing the latest of several unsuccessful takes, the director of the movie [2] looked out from behind the viewfinder of his video camera, glaring at his star with an irritated expression, as he shouted...

_**CUT**__**! This brand-new action movie  
**__**Will earn me bucks galore,  
**__**But I won't be in the money  
**__**If I kick you out that door!**_

When the director mouse had given him his ultimatum, the actor mouse winced, & for several reasons—at the prospect of earning the wrath of his employer, at the prospect of being fired, at the prospect of not reaping the benefits of being in a box-office hit...& _especially_ at the prospect of being forced to "battle bad guys", when he couldn't even stomach the thought of hurting a fly! _Oh, why couldn't I just have offered to play a part in that romance movie? _the actor mouse complained mentally, but he did not voice his thoughts aloud. Instead, the timid, timorous thespian continued to sport that oh-too-uneasy look on his face, as he muttered to himself nervously...

_**This movie's not the kind for me!  
**__**I don't like blood & gore!  
**__**I'll be screaming like a baby  
**__**When I knock him to the floor!**_

Shutting his eyes tight—& hoping that he would be able to please the director mouse in just _one_ more take—the actor mouse threw a punch at one of the "assassins"...& literally sent him flying off the set! When the actor mouse opened his eyes, & saw what he had done, he felt shocked, then relieved...& only became more so when he watched the director mouse look at him with a pleased smile, as he said in satisfaction, "_CUT__!_ Now, _THAT'S_ a show!" The actor mouse began to feel all the earlier anxiety leaving his body, as his soul became filled with feelings of courage & confidence; he was now sure that he could play this role _easily!_

Meanwhile, on a mouse street in the Whitechapel district of London's East End, a shady-looking mouse in grubby clothing was standing by a crude display of several televisions, which he was hawking out to passersby. Hoping to pique the interest of potential customers, the shady-looking salesmouse called out in a gravelly Cockney accent...

'_**Ello, chaps, I'm offerin' ya a bargain not ta miss,  
**__**A fabulous invention that'll bring yer fam'ly bliss!  
**__**It's called a television, & it's 'mazin' as can be!  
**__**A talkin' box with movin' pictures! Get one free!**_

On the other side of town, things were _swinging_ inside one of Mouse London's most-popular teen clubs! The air was filled with the strains of the latest techno music, which was blaring at full volume, so that all the dancers could feel the pulse & throb of the bass-beats, as they moved & grooved together to the energetic dance melodies. A veritable rainbow of bright, colorful lights danced along the walls & ceiling of the dark room, & as the adolescent clubbers let themselves loose on the disco floor with brilliantly-colored tiles, a DJ provided the music with the help of the radio station playing on his stereo system, as he rapped...

_**Citizens of London, DJ Ronnie's here to say  
**__**That this month of change has really made our day!  
**__**The radio is treating us to brand-new sound & song,  
**__**And pretty soon, the city will be jammin' all night long!**_

Back in Regents Park, the mouse couple, newspaper boy, & other rodents were still singing...but, now, they had split up into separate groups. Holding each other by the paws, the rodents in each ensemble were merrily dancing around in circles on the park green, as they began to wrap up the number that they had been performing...

_**This month of change,  
**__**It's changed the world forever!**_

An inventor mouse [3] in the crowd ecstatically exclaimed...

_**This month of change,  
**__**It's made our city better!**_

An author mouse [4] in the crowd delightedly declared...

_**This month of change,  
**__**It's a blessing to us all!**_

A preacher mouse [5] in the crowd jubilantly shouted...

_**May God bless us all  
**__**On this merry month of wonder!**_

Finally, all the park-goers stopped dancing, & came together to sing the last part of their triumphant final chorus, smiling broadly from ear to ear, as their voices rang in harmonic unison...

_**May we live & prosper  
**__**On this merry...month...of...change!  
**__**This month of change!  
**__**This month of change!  
**__**This month of change!**_

Upon finishing their rousing melody, the rodents at Regents Park soon returned to their earlier business. Unaware to the park-goers, however, a much-different kind of action was taking place in another section of the recreational area...if one could really use the word "action" to describe the activity that was going on there.

_(CUE MUSIC: Scherzo movement from Peter Tchaikovsky's "Symphony No. 4 In F Minor")_

On an "isolated" part of the green at Regents Park, a ragtag round of rogues sat together on the grassy ground, lounging about idly on this sunny September day. These particular critters (as well as the large cat who was with them) weren't just _any_ rogues; they were none other than the former thugs of Professor Ratigan, & they had spent the last two months wandering the streets of Mouse London, looking vainly for a place to stay. Over the course of the previous weeks, the ex-minions had lost many of the members of their "family"—whether due to death, incarceration, or reformation—& all that remained of Ratigan's team were 15 mice, 2 bats, 1 cat, & 1 lizard. The ex-minions were bored & not quite sure what to do with themselves, now that they were unofficially "retired" from the criminal business (well, really, it's more like they were _fired_...but more will be revealed about that later).

One of the thugs was sitting down on the grass by himself. He was a tall mouse with a lean, lanky figure; his body was covered in tan fur, & a matching wave of neatly-combed fur-hair adorned the top of his head. A slightly-prominent brown nose (flanked by a pair of short whiskers on either side) was juxtaposed between two wicked gray eyes that were half-lidded in languor. His frame was covered by a buttonless mauve jacket (which was worn open over his other clothing), a snug-fitting plum-colored shirt, & a form-fitting pair of ankle-length brown trousers; a pair of dull dark-brown shoes sheltered his feet, & his crown was covered by a dark-navy-blue bowler hat (decorated with a mauve ribbon around the "dome"). Normally, one could see a large Cuban cigar hanging from his mouth, but this was absent from his _boca _today. [6] The thug—a forger by the name of Walker DeBeaumont—stretched his arms & legs, as he gave a great big yawn. It was evident that, after two whole months of having nothing to do to occupy his time, Walker was becoming very drowsy & tired from the ennui that ate at him each day. Planting his legs down on the ground, & his arms at his sides, Walker turned his head to lazily face his co-thugs, as he said jadedly, "I'm bored."

Not too far away, two mice were sitting together on a red-&-white-checkered picnic blanket, sharing an early lunch. The first mouse was a short, slender woman with white fur; she had straight golden hair that ended at the level of her shoulders, & a small pink nose jutted out from between her sweet blue eyes with long lashes. A pair of small, curvy pink ears extended from her head (which sported wide & curvy cheekbones), & her slim limbs ended in delicate paws & feet. She was mostly clad in an ankle-length fuschia dress with puffy shoulder-sleeves, no collar, & light-fuschia lace trimmings that went all along the sleeves, neckhole, & hem; a medium-sized fuschia bow was neatly tucked into her hair (right in the middle of her head), & a pair of fuschia shoes with small heels covered her feet. She wore no jewelry, but a modest amount of makeup adorned her pretty face. Her name was Miriam Richards, & although she was not really a thug of Professor Ratigan, she was the _girlfriend_ of one thug...at least, a thug in the occupational sense of the word.

That "thug" was the second mouse on the picnic blanket—the very one who was dining with Miriam. He was a rather short fellow with a plump, chubby figure (especially in the area of his midsection). Tan fur covered his body, & a wave of neatly-combed fur-hair adorned the top of his head. A slightly-prominent nose (which had literally turned red from excessive alcohol consumption, & was flanked by a pair of long whiskers on either side) was positioned between his sweet brown eyes. His ears were small & curvy, like Miriam's, & his stout limbs ended in small paws & average-sized feet. He wore a baggy maroon sweater (which had long sleeves that tended to drape over his hands), a pair of loose-fitting dark-brown trousers, a snug-fitting pair of dull brown shoes, & a brown stovepipe hat (with a black ribbon-stripe & bits of fuzz decorating the "dome"). The mouse's name was Bartholomew Favell.

_But wait a minute, _you readers are probably wondering, _didn't Bartholomew get eaten up by Felicia? _As a matter of fact, no; Bartholomew was _supposed_ to have been "executed" by Felicia, but he managed to escape from the jaws of death at the last moment (this will be explained further at a later point in the story). And as a result of his miraculous survival, Bartholomew had decided to permanently abstain from alcohol...& slowly, but surely, he was making steps in that direction. [7] Weaning oneself off of intoxicating beverages is not exactly an easy process...but, in any case, the only drinks that Bartholomew (& Miriam) had with the midday meal were several Coke-type bottles of grape-flavored sugary soda! Taking a big piece of cheese from the picnic lunch, & preparing to eat it, Bartholomew said to Walker in reply, "Well, we could play checkers." Bartholomew then quickly opened his mouth, stuffed the cheese into it, & swallowed the dairy item in one gulp, before reaching for one of the bottles of grape-flavored sugary soda. After opening the bottle (& raising it in a mock-toast), Bartholomew put the container to his lips, guzzling its contents to wash down the recently-eaten cheese...before accidentally giving out a belch. Miriam wrinkled her nose in disgust, & fanned her hand in front of her face to ward off the stench, as Bartholomew turned away from his girlfriend with an awkward expression & a sheepish smile, blushing profusely as he put a paw to his mouth, & said, "Oops...'Scuse me."

Another thug was sitting down on the grass at the base of a big rock. Like Bartholomew & Miriam, he was on the short side, but his figure was lean & lanky. Light-brown fur covered his body, & a wave of neatly-combed fur-hair adorned the top of his head (which sported wide & curvy cheekbones). A slightly-prominent pink nose (flanked on either side by a pair of medium-length whiskers) was positioned between his cunning brown eyes, & a big white bucktooth could be seen jutting out from his upper lip. A pair of large, curvy pink ears extended from his head (the "right" ear had a notch in it), & his average-sized appendages (i.e., paws & feet) & thick pink tail seemed to be disproportionate with his skinny arms & legs. A buttonless gray jacket was worn open over his other clothing, which mostly consisted of a snug-fitting light-blue shirt, & a pair of ankle-length gray trousers (which matched the jacket, & were held up by a brown leather belt with a golden buckle); dull dark-gray shoes covered his feet, & a red scarf (decorated with a yellow plaid pattern) was wrapped around his neck, with two long, loose ends trailing down over the "right" side of his body. And, to complete the outfit, a gray English cap rested snugly upon his head. The mouse—an Australian pickpocket, burglar, & general petty thief who had come to earn the nickname of "Jaywalk" James Clarke [8] (due to his escape method, which will be demonstrated for you at later points in the story)—glared when he registered Bartholomew's earlier words to Walker. Not at all pleased with his stout co-thug's suggestion, Jaywalk James complained, "Checkers? Crikey, I _hate_ that game!"

Nearby, a fifth mouse was seated on a makeshift park bench. This mouse, like his two previously-mentioned cohorts (& Miriam), was short in stature, but he shared Jaywalk James' lean, lanky build. He also had many of the same physical characteristics shared by Bartholomew, Walker, &/or Jaywalk James—the tan fur & matching fur-hair, the rounded head with wide & curvy cheekbones, the slightly-prominent brown nose with the pair of medium-length whiskers on either side, the brown eyes (which often had an impish quality to them), & the small, curvy pink ears. Unlike Jaywalk James, however, his short (& slender) pink tail & average-sized appendages looked to be more in proportion with his slim arms & legs. He was dressed in an ensemble that was rather appropriate for this time of year (for aesthetic, as well as practical, reasons)—a buttonless maroon jacket (which was worn open over his other clothing), a burnt-orange turtleneck sweater, a form-fitting pair of ankle-length brown trousers, a pair of dull dark-brown shoes, & a knitted dark-red ski cap with a pom-pom on top. This mouse—a vandal who often went by the moniker of "Snotty" Sam Fitzgerald (exactly how he got his nickname will be revealed to you at later points in our tale)—was leaning back in his seat with a satisfied smile, relaxing as he was being given a shoulder-rub from a sixth mouse, who stood behind the park bench where he was resting.

The sixth mouse was a tall, athletic-looking woman with a big-boned figure. Tan fur covered her body, & a short mop of curly brown hair adorned the top of her crown (with several twirly tendrils & bangs hanging down in front of her forehead). Her rounded head sported high cheekbones that curved at a slight angle, & a small pink nose jutted out from between her gruff blue eyes (topped with a pair of thick, angular brown eyebrows). A mole decorated her "left" cheek, & a small pair of curvy pink ears extended from her head; her tail was thick, & her muscular limbs ended in massive paws & feet. Despite the woman's homely appearance, however, the thugs always seemed to find her attractive...for all the wrong reasons! They _insisted _that she constantly wear a sleeveless, form-fitting red dress (which had a wide square neckline that went down to her chest area, thick shoulder-straps, & a hemline that reached the level of her knees—how humiliating!), along with black fishnet stockings, red shoes with small heels, red bead earrings, makeup, & a red choker with a small white pearl in the middle; the ensemble was meant to make the woman look more "gorgeous" when she fulfilled her duties as the thugs' masseuse, cook, mousekeeper, general servant...& occasional concubine, when Ratigan or his minions had no other girls to "spend fursonal time" with. As she continued to rub Snotty Sam's shoulders, the disgruntled woman (named Olga Mousekewitz) [9] glared bitterly, as she made her curt response to Jaywalk James' complaint, telling the pickpocket in her thick Russian accent, "Then go play cricket!"

Meanwhile, on a large rock, two other thugs were sitting together...though these "minions" were really more of a kindly & benevolent pair. The mice were of different build & stature—the first was short & stout, while the other was lean, & of average height—but they shared a few common characteristics, such as tan fur (& matching fur-hair), rounded heads with wide & curvy cheekbones, slightly-prominent brown noses with whiskers on either side, & pairs of small, curvy pink ears. For all the similarities in their appearances, however, the two mice did not look entirely alike; for instance, the first mouse had brown eyes (while the second one had violet eyes), the first mouse's whiskers were much shorter than the second one's, & the first mouse had thicker limbs & larger appendages than his partner (not to mention a shorter & somewhat-thicker tail).

The mice also dressed in individual sets of clothing that helped to differentiate them even further. The first mouse, like Snotty Sam, wore an outfit that was well-suited for September in design & appearance: a buttonless dark-brown vest (which was worn open over his other clothing), a red-orange turtleneck sweater, a form-fitting pair of brown trousers (which were held up by a dark-brown leather belt with a golden buckle), a pair of dull dark-brown shoes, & a brown bowler hat with a red-orange ribbon around the "dome". (Like Walker, he normally smoked a cigar, but this was absent from his mouth.) In contrast, the second mouse wore an outfit of a more-"wintery" variety: a buttonless plum-violet jacket (worn open over his other clothing), a lavender-&-brown-striped shirt, a pair of dark-plum-violet trousers, a pair of dull dark-gray shoes, & a dark-purplish-gray English cap that fit snugly upon his head. It seemed that the mice—whose names were Red Robertson & "Snakes" Henshaw, respectively—had found a way to keep themselves entertained, as they were now engaging in the latest of several card games. Having heard Olga's suggestion for Jaywalk James to play cricket, Red turned to gaze in the direction of the Russian masseuse; then, smiling at Olga, Red nodded his head in agreement, as he said, "That would be good."

Snakes, however, did _not_ take well to Red's comment, & he also did not bother to hide his displeasure. As he took one of his cards, & placed it on top of the stack between him & Red, Snakes glowered angrily, & remarked _sotto voce_, "Cricket reeks."

When Snakes said this, Red couldn't help but overhear him, & he swiftly turned back to face his friend with an irritated expression, as he retorted, "Does _not!_"

"Does _too!_" Snakes countered, & the two "minions" immediately began arguing back & forth—almost like children fighting over a toy! If one were to see & hear the heated exchanges between Red & Snakes, one couldn't help but laugh, as (s)he witnessed the mice's asinine argument with one another.

"Does _NOT__!_"

"Does _TOO__!_"

Then, the debate became more fursonal in nature, & Red & Snakes resorted to using an _ad rodentem_ defense of offensive epithets, which the mice took turns hurling at each other, much as one would throw balls or water balloons: "Stupid-head!" [10]

"Moron-face!"

"Bulb-nose!"

"Crumpet-brain!"

"Mama's boy!"

Red's last insult _really_ got Snakes riled up! Yes, it was true that the sensitive Snakes did have a great fondness for his loving mother, with whom he shared a very close bond (he had done so since the day of his birth!)...& it was also true that Snakes tended to flaunt his relationship with his "dear Mum" (whether he read his latest letters from her, used one of her possessions in his own home, baked some of her favorite recipes, or made constant references to her)...but unless you wanted a tail-kicking from the normally-meek mouse, you did not _dare_ call him out on _any_ of those things! Launching into a deep rage, Snakes lunged for Red, & even went so far as to try & strangle him during the ensuing scuffle...but before they even knew it, their squabble was soon broken up by the arrival of a third "thug"—their closest friend & companion.

Like Red & Snakes, this particular fellow was also of a not-so-malicious nature...but, appearance-wise, he easily stood apart from his pals, due to the fact that he was a lizard. His tall & lanky body was completely covered in green-yellow skin, & his rounded head had high cheekbones that were rather small & curvy. His slightly-prominent muzzle consisted of a protruding jaw underneath a bulbed, beak-like nose, which jutted out from between a pair of kindly green eyes; a large sac of flesh hung under his chin, almost like the waddle of a turkey or some other bird. His neck & tail were both long, with the former being much thinner than the latter; his skinny limbs ended in large hands (each containing a set of 4 fingers) & feet (each containing a set of 3 toes). Being a cold-blooded creature, he was dressed in clothing that would keep his body temperature at a comfortable level: a snug-fitting brown sweater (which had long sleeves, as well as a tall, turtleneck-style collar), a pair of ankle-length dark-brown trousers, & a dark-green English cap that was much too big for his head (so much so that most of the hat was flopping down over the back of his crown, with the bill sticking up over his eye area!). The only thing he _wasn't_ wearing was shoes. The reptilian "minion"—usually known by the name of Bill The Lizard—may have been a servant of Professor Ratigan, but he was that in title & occupation only; in word & deed, he acted as the altruistic, noble, & good-hearted leader of the heroic vigilante group known as the Goodie Gang (of which Red, Snakes, Bartholomew, Miriam, & Olga were members). Dodging in between Red & Snakes to break up the fight, Bill pushed the mice apart with his hands to their faces, as he told them in a reprimanding manner, "That's enough, both of you! I want you two to kiss & make up!"

In response to Bill's orders, Red & Snakes just turned aside, facing away from each other, as they shut their eyes, tilted up their noses, & crossed their arms in front of their chests in a display of obstinate stubbornness. "Ewww, no way, Bill!" Red retorted angrily, as he did the aforementioned gestures.

"I'd rather jump in the Thames River!" Snakes replied irately, performing the same acts.

At the base of the rock where Bill, Red, & Snakes were standing, Jaywalk James was seated on the grass with 3 other mice. The first 2 mice, who made up a notorious duo known as "The Flashy Farrell Brothers", were a pair of fraternal twins—both males, with somewhat-different appearances. The oldest of the twins was named Terry; he was tall, with a big-boned, stocky figure. Tan fur covered his body, & matching fur-hair adorned the top of his head. Like Bill The Lizard, he had a rounded head with high cheekbones that were rather small & curvy; a small brown nose was juxtaposed between his malicious blue eyes. A pair of small, curvy pink ears flanked either side of his head, & his thick, muscular arms & legs ended in large paws & feet. He was dressed in a buttonless dodger-blue vest (worn open over his other clothing), a snug-fitting sky-blue sweater (which had sleeves that he kept rolled up to his elbows), a pair of ankle-length brown trousers, a pair of dull dark-brown shoes, & a brown bowler hat with a black ribbon around the "dome". In one hand, he clutched at the handle of a large wooden billyclub, which he swacked against the palm of his other paw in the lingering state of idleness that he had grown accustomed to.

The younger of the Flashy Farrell Brothers, Thomas, was also tall, but not quite as much as Terry. He shared his older twin sibling's tan fur & matching fur-hair, small brown nose, blue eyes, thick limbs, & large appendages...but he had plenty of his own unique traits, as well—his figure was stout & plump, he had an elliptical-shaped head with wide cheekbones that curved at an angle, a pair of medium-length whiskers flanked either side of his nose, purplish markings surrounded his eyes, & his ears were of average size. Like Snotty Sam & Red, Thomas wore an outfit that was perfectly fitting for the fall season: a snug-fitting medium-violet-red sweater, a pair of ankle-length dark-magenta trousers, a pair of dull dark-brown shoes, & a knitted dark-orange-red ski cap (minus a pom-pom). And, much like his brother Terry, Thomas was also consumed by a sense of gnawing boredom, although he tried to alleviate this by listening to some of the calming classical music that flowed from the speakers of a recently-stolen boom-box, which the third mouse was trying out.

The last mouse was tall, like the Farrell twins, but his frame took on a lean, lanky figure. He, too, had tan fur & matching fur-hair, both of which he kept neatly combed; his rounded head sported wide & curvy cheekbones, & a prominent pink nose (flanked with a pair of long whiskers on either side) jutted out from between a pair of crafty eyes with yellow "whites" & dot-like black irises (said eyes were topped with a pair of thick, angular black eyebrows). A big white bucktooth could be seen jutting out from his upper lip, & his head was flanked by a small pair of pulled-back ears. His tail was long, & his limbs were thin, ending in average-sized paws & feet. His choice of clothing was rather simple in color & design, yet practical for the particular kinds of criminal careers he often pursued: a black turtleneck sweater with matching sweatpants, a knitted black ski cap (with a small pom-pom on top of it), & a thick black bandanna-mask that fit snugly around the middle of his head, with two oval-shaped holes for his eyes to show through. Like Bill The Lizard, he preferred to walk around in his bare feet, but just as long as there were no sharp objects on the ground, he didn't mind. In fact, the mouse—who preferred to be referred to as Agent 001—was quite content to feel the grass underneath his _nagoy nogas_, as he, the Farrell Brothers, & Jaywalk James listened to the soothing strains of Tchaikovsky...until Agent 001's ever-acute ears perked up to the sound of Snakes commenting to Bill about "rather jumping in the Thames River", than apologizing to Red. [11] Unable to resist going for a touch of wicked humor, Agent 001 chuckled darkly, & as he tilted his head up to face a certain mouse standing on the rock, the Russian minion said with a mischievous smirk, "That can be arranged, Snakes..."

"Ah, shut it," Snakes shouted at Agent 001, now looking indignant. "I don't need to hear your sarcastic remarks!"

Retorting with his usual trademark mockery, Agent 001 countered, "Oh...&, yet, you've managed to put up with _Red's _'sarcastic remarks' numerous times. Are his wisecracks becoming a little _too_ 'soft' for you, Snakes?"

Back on top of the big rock, where he was still standing with Red & Snakes, Bill The Lizard glared at Agent 001 with a scolding look, as he admonished him, "Agent 001, don't be so mean!" Then, Bill turned his head to gaze in the direction of another thug, before putting on a big, toothy smile. "So, how's that lollipop tasting, Gunsmoke Gary?" he asked.

On another part of the park green, a few mouse yards away from Agent 001 & co. (along with Bill, Red, & Snakes), were 3 other thugs. The first of these particular minions was a tall bat-mouse hybrid in her early 60's; despite the various wrinkles & signs of aging on her face, she still remained a voluptuous vixen with her slender, shapely figure, & managed to look quite good for her age. Her body was covered in golden fur, & her head was topped with short, straight red hair that she always kept neatly combed, neatly cut, & neatly groomed. A pair of large bat wings with light-golden webbing adorned her arms, two rows of sharp white teeth (complete with a small pair of front fangs) filled her mouth, & two tall ears (one of which had a notch in it) flanked either side of her head with wide & curvy cheekbones. These were the only traits that came from the battier half of her heritage, for all her other physical features resembled those of the mousier side—a slightly-prominent pink nose (flanked by a pair of long whiskers on either side), a long pink tail, & mouse-like fingers that were tipped with sharp claws. Her green eyes had a cold & callous air to them, & were topped with a pair of thick, angular red eyebrows. She wore an outfit that would have shocked the rodents of Old Mousetorian society (though it was now the Neo-Mousetorian Age, &, so, it did not really matter): a long, sleeveless deep-turquoise dress (which was cut up so that it revealed much of her legs, had a hemline reaching down to her ankles, & had a low, V-shaped neckline that went down to her chest), a deep-turquoise garter with frilly light-turquoise trimmings, & a pair of black leather combat boots that reached up to the middles of her calves. Strapped to her right thigh with the garter, was a large knife that she always carried around with her.

The bat-mouse woman, whose name was Eunice Karlin, was once one of Professor Ratigan's top minions (& one of his few female thugs), but in the months that had passed since Ratigan's departure, she had contented herself to spending time with her boyfriend & fellow thug, who was sitting across from her, as they engaged in a game of chess—their favorite sport. (I thought I should take the time to mention that Felicia had just started regaining the weight she lost during her frantic escape from Queen Mousetoria's Royal Guard Dogs, & this was accomplished with the help of Ratigan's former thugs keeping her fed with fish, meat from the local butcher shops, & dead beggarmice that they found on the streets. But it was Eunice who managed to keep Felicia from fulfilling any urges to eat the thugs; you see, Eunice happened to have a rare ability to communicate with cats in their own language, & she was able to convince Felicia to leave the minions alone..._or else!_) [12]

Unlike his lady-friend, Eunice's companion was a pure-bred bat, of average height & slim build. His body was covered in gray fur (complete with matching fur-hair that, like Eunice, he always kept neatly combed); his rounded head sported high cheekbones that curved at a slight angle, & a small pug nose with two open nostrils was fixed between his roguish yellow eyes (topped with thick, angular black eyebrows). His big bat wings had silver webbing (although one couldn't normally see this under his clothing), as did his large hands; his feet were of a similar size as said hands, & his arms & legs were thin. He had the same rows of sharp white teeth, front fangs, & tall pink ears as Eunice (but his "right" ear did not have a notch in it). In addition to a set of crisp white shirt-sleeves, a red silk necktie, & black patent-leather shoes with white spats, his frame was covered in the clothing of a mouse detective's ensemble—trenchcoat, trousers, tunic, invertness cape, & deerstalker cap—but they were all in black, & the sleeves of certain garments were fashioned to fit over his wings like a poncho or shawl. The ruffian's name was Shellington Batly, & he was eagerly enjoying the game of chess he was playing with his dear Eunice...but, oh, how ironic it was that he was "fighting on the side of black"—the very color of his custom-made detective uniform, not to mention the very color of evil itself! Like that measly do-gooder Basil Of Baker Street (with whom he sometimes worked on cases), Shellington couldn't help but notice the little things; it was practically second nature for him to do so! [13]

The third thug, who was standing a few mouse feet away from Eunice & Shellington Batly, was a mouse of short stature, with a stout, portly figure. His body was covered with tan fur (along with matching fur-hair), & a slightly-prominent brown nose was juxtaposed between his roguish deep-green eyes. A gray five-o'clock shadow adorned his chin & muzzle (except on the area of his lower lip), & a pair of small, curvy pink ears extended from either side of his head (which sported wide & curvy cheekbones). His arms & legs were stocky, ending in large paws & feet. He was smartly dressed in a buttonless forest-green jacket (which was worn open over his other clothing), a snug-fitting pair of cobalt-blue trousers, a single-breasted navy-blue waistcoat, a set of periwinkle-blue shirt-sleeves (which had a starched white collar that he kept turned up around his neck), a red silk necktie, & a pair of blackish-blue shoes that he always made sure to keep spotless & shiny. In his paw, he clutched a big red lollipop, which he was slurping on in a slow, leisurely manner, savoring the sweet cherry flavor of the candy. Upon hearing Bill The Lizard ask him how his sucker was treating his palate, "Gunsmoke" Gary Mousedale paused for a quick beat, then finally responded in a casual tone, "Hmmm...tastes pretty good." With that, the hitmouse, assassin, & occasional bank robber went back to sucking on his lollipop, making very loud slurping noises as he did so.

Unfortunately, Gunsmoke Gary's aforementioned slurping provided an annoying distraction for Eunice & Shellington, who were both trying to play their chess game. After Gary slurped on his sucker for several minutes too many, Shellington couldn't take the noise anymore. To his girlfriend & fellow minion, he asked in an annoyed tone, "Eunice, darling, could you _please_ go over to Gary, & talk to him about his most impolite behavior?"

"Certainly, my dark knight," Eunice replied, before getting up on her feet, & walking over to Gunsmoke Gary, who did not face her...or stop slurping on his lolly. Sporting a "sweet", fang-filled smile, Eunice crossed her wings & arms behind her back, leaning in closer towards Gunsmoke Gary, as she asked him, "Gary, dear...How many times have I asked you..."—her smile immediately disappeared, & she sported an angry expression—"..._NOT_ to slurp on that lollipop while you're sucking on it?"

Gunsmoke Gary took a moment to consider, then made his answer: "Umm...I'd say about one or two times, give or take." With that, the trigger-happy hitmouse went back to slurping his lollipop once again.

Now, Eunice was becoming quite enraged. Gritting her teeth together, the fanged fiendess snarled angrily, "_WRONG_, Gary. Ever since Bill first started making you give up cigars, & suck on those bloody lollies instead, I've asked you not to slurp on them _exactly _214 times—_EXACTLY__!_" [14]

"Yeah," Gunsmoke Gary replied in a cavalier manner. "So what?"

Gunsmoke Gary then went back to slurping his lollipop for the third time in a row, sending Eunice closer & closer to the edge. Barely managing to contain her fury, Eunice growled, "Gary...let me make one thing nice & sparkling clear to you...you slurp on that lolly one more time..." As if to spite Eunice, Gunsmoke Gary slurped on his sucker for a very long moment...&, at that point, Eunice completely snapped! Losing control of the anger she had tried so hard to contain, the villainous bat-mouse hybrid lashed out at Gary, & shouted, "That's it, you bratchny! You asked for it!" With that, Eunice began to chase Gunsmoke Gary around the park, pursuing the hitmouse every which-way...& as he tried to run as fast as he could to avoid Eunice (& therefore not have to face her unholy wrath), Gary couldn't help but scream like a frightened child. [15]

As he watched the rather comical chase ensue, Shellington Batly remarked dryly, "Ah, so much for lollipops—the world's..."

"And my..." Bill piped in, before Shellington finished, "...alternative to cigarettes."

"He had it coming, the little bugger," Jaywalk James commented, as he & the other thugs continued to watch Eunice chasing Gunsmoke Gary. [16]

_(CUE MUSIC: Abridged version of "Adagio Of Spartacus & Phrygia", by Aram Khachaturian)_

Not too far away, a young mouse was sitting on the grass by himself. He was an extremely short, shrimpy fellow with a thin, lean figure. Tan fur covered his body, & a wave of matching fur-hair adorned the top of his head (which sported wide & curvy cheekbones). A slightly-prominent brown nose (flanked by a pair of medium-length whiskers on either side) jutted out from between his normally-mean blue eyes, & his curvy pink ears were of average size. His pink tail was short & slender, & his thin arms & legs ended in differently-sized appendages—large paws & small feet. His choice of clothing consisted of cool colors: a buttonless fuschia vest (which was worn open over his other garments), a snug-fitting sky-blue shirt with long sleeves & a folded-down collar, a form-fitting pair of ankle-length purple trousers, a pair of dull black shoes, & a blue baseball cap (which he wore backwards over his head, almost like one of those modern-day rappers). The mouse's moniker was "Peewee" Pete Colemouse, & as he sat cross-legged on the ground, holding his head in his hands, his face sported a sad, forlorn expression. In the two months that had passed since his "retirement" from his position as one of the burglars & petty thieves (among other things) in Ratigan's gang, Peewee Pete couldn't seem to find a reason to smile anymore—be it due to boredom, sorrow, homelessness, hunger, the inability to find a stable job, the loss of several of his old friends & fellow thugs, the staleness of his recent lifestyle, the departure of his former boss, or the deprival of the devious duties that he had enjoyed so much.

At one point, a yellow butterfly came fluttering by, dancing playfully around Peewee Pete's head, but the thug paid no attention to it; he was completely caught up in his utter misery. After dancing around Pete for several seconds (& receiving no response), the butterfly finally gave up, then flew away. Not changing his earlier expression of unhappiness, Peewee Pete complained dejectedly in his high-pitched voice, "Awww...I wish Ratigan were here, so we didn't have to sit here all day, & do nothing! When are we gonna start committing crimes again, like we used to?" [17]

Before Peewee Pete knew it, he was soon joined by another thug. The mouse was quite short (but not _nearly_ as much as Pete!), & his frame took on a big-boned, slightly-stout figure. His body was covered in brown fur, & a wave of matching fur-hair adorned the top of his head (which sported wide & curvy cheekbones). A small cherry-red nose protruded from between his beady brown eyes, & an average-sized pair of curvy pink ears extended from his head. His pink tail was of the usual length & thickness for his particular proportions, & his stout arms & legs ended in paws & feet of average size. He was dressed in a buttonless turquoise-blue jacket (which was worn open over his other clothing), a snug-fitting pair of ankle-length gray trousers (which were held up by a brown leather belt with a golden buckle), a long-sleeved black shirt, a pair of shiny black shoes, & a deep-brown bowler hat with a black ribbon around the "dome". The minion—"Manchester" Maurice Favell—happened to be Bartholomew's twin brother, but unlike his younger sibling, he was more of a mean, malicious furson in nature. And, yet, one couldn't really tell that just by looking at Maurice at this particular moment. As he approached Peewee Pete, Manchester Maurice seemed to share the younger mouse's pain—&, in fact, he quite did. Sorrowfully shaking his head, Maurice forlornly told his diminutive comrade, "I'm afraid that's not going to happen, Pete. Ratigan kicked us out of the hideout, & left for God-knows-where with Fidget. I fear that he's gone from our lives forever."

When they overheard this, all the thugs (with the exceptions of Bartholomew, Miriam, Olga, Bill, Red, & Snakes) began to groan & moan dismally, now beginning to remember & realize how much they ached & pined for the older days, when they kept themselves engaged & entertained with all sorts of delightfully-devious criminal activities...when Ratigan made sure that they were never in need of anything...when they could relax in the lap of relative luxury...when they were encouraged to cave in to the darker side of rodent nature...when they could live _apart_ from society's rules, & not have to be bothered by anyone about it (except law-enforcement officials)! Caught up in the wave of emotions that was washing over his co-minions, Peewee Pete's eyes filled up with tears, & he started to wail noisily. Managing to speak through his sobbing, Pete cried, "I wish the Boss would come back!"

Suddenly, the "poignant" scene was interrupted by the appearance of a tall, dark, ominous shadow, which loomed over Peewee Pete & Manchester Maurice. The two mice looked up at the owner of the aforementioned shadow...&, upon seeing him, they could barely contain their astonishment. "Perhaps, I can be of some assistance," spoke a smooth, suave voice that carried a posh air about it. The shadow continued to get bigger, as its owner got closer to the area where the thugs were; all the minions were practically engulfed by the silhouette, gazing up at its source in admiration & delight...with the exceptions of Bill, Red, Snakes, Bartholomew, Miriam, & Olga (as well as another thug with an eye-patch, "Old Blind Joe" McDowell—we will meet him again later on).

As he gazed up at the shadow, Bartholomew looked very frightened. It was apparent that he was not too pleased to see the strange visitor...& in a voice that quivered with absolute fear, Bartholomew whispered to himself, "It's _HIM_..."

Agent 001's reaction, however, was a lot more enthusiastic. The Russian minion immediately dropped what he was doing, got up, & walked away from Jaywalk James & the Farrell Brothers, before approaching the owner of the shadow. Smiling widely in absolute ecstasy, Agent 001 fell to his paws & knees before the silhouetted figure, bowing reverently towards him, as if he were a god. Then, after he finished his bowing & kowtowing, Agent 001 looked up at the visitor with tears of joy in his eyes, & said, "Oh, Master..."

Felicia was also quite delighted to see the "Master". The feline meowed happily, & got up onto her petite feet, before merrily prancing over to the shadowy figure. Said figure reached out a paw to pet Felicia tenderly; the corpulent cat purred contentedly in response to his touch. For a few seconds, the figure's eyes were closed, as if in a pleasant smile...but, then, the aforementioned eyes snapped open, revealing a pair of piercing green irises & cold black pupils against golden-yellow "whites". The sun shone brightly behind the figure, providing a sort of backlight that gave him his darkly-silhouetted appearance; one could not make out the color or details of his clothing or physical features, except for his eyes...& when those orbs sported a devilish gleam, that made the figure's presence all the more eerie...

The thugs (or the majority of them, anyway) could hardly hide their heartfelt glee. The day they had been wishing for had finally come. London's greatest rodent criminal had returned...

* * *

[1] It should be noted that intelligent rodents are, for the most part, fully-aware of the existence of human beings, but human beings are seldom aware of the existence of intelligent rodents. The rodents consider their world to be _apart_ from the human world, &—in a way—it is; humans don't usually notice the intelligent rodents living among them, & the two worlds don't mix often.

[2] The director mouse—Cecil B. DeMont—is a character that we'll meet again in Chapters 7 & 9 of the story.

[3] The inventor mouse—Professor Phineas Doppler—is a character that we'll meet again in Chapters 7 & 9 of the story.

[4] The author mouse—Amergin Burgess—is a character that we'll meet again in Chapters 7 & 9 of the story.

[5] The preacher mouse is a character that we'll meet again in Chapter 8 of the story.

[6] Since Disney is taking steps to discourage smoking in their films, the film version of GMD 2 will have _minimal_ instances of brief cigar or cigarette use, with the rest of the movie featuring the use of substitutes (such as straws, pieces of hay, lollipops, gum, & whatnot) & comments / references to smoking that are of a negative nature...

...although, for the purposes of the _fanfiction_ version of the story, that's not exactly the reason why Walker, Red, & Gunsmoke Gary aren't with their usual cigars. When Ratigan's thugs were all "relieved of their criminal duties", Bill The Lizard "forced" everyone to give up smoking—mostly because he was concerned about their health, but also because he cannot stand the odor of cigars & cigarettes (he can barely tolerate his friend Red's smoking!)—& recommended that they put relatively-healthier things in their mouths, like candy or gum, to lessen the cravings.

[7] In the majority of my post-GMD fanfics, Bartholomew will be alternating between soft drinks, milk, juice, tea, punch, coffee, 'Kool-Aid', lemonade, water, & alcoholic beverages in his long (but ultimately successful) quest to become sober.

[8] One reviewer of GMD 2 (well, the previous edition, anyway) expressed a complaint about my nicknames for the thugs, which she considered to be "cliché"...while many (if not all) of my friends, fans, & other readers / reviewers don't seem to mind them so much (although one particular pal of mine didn't really care for the name "Snotty Sam"). Think whatever you want of the minions' monikers; I don't care whether you love them or hate them, just as long as you express your thoughts & opinions to me in a tactful & diplomatic manner. That is all.

But no matter what you think of the names I chose for the thugs, I would nonetheless like to make a statement, for your information. The nicknaming of Ratigan's henchmice was done in the tradition of Eve Titus' character-naming style in the original "_Basil Of Baker Street_" books; for instance, she used such names as Lefty Lichina, Wrongo Wright, Cactus Charlie, & Jughead Jake. And the "Flashy Farrell Brothers" epithet was directly borrowed from the fourth book in the series, "_Basil In Mexico_".

In fact, those who have read the books will notice that my GMD sequel & other fanfics are largely influenced by Eve Titus' works; examples of this include the use of mouse-related puns (several of which were lifted from the original BOBS stories), the "mouse vs. human world" themes, & some aspects of Basil's character (as I portray it)...along with many others that would be too numerous to mention!

[9] I know what you are thinking...&, no, Olga is _not_ related to a certain mouseling or his family. Mousekewitz is a very common name for Russian-Jewish rodents.

[10] Obviously, "_ad rodentem_" is the mouse way of saying "_ad hominem_"; for those who don't know Latin, the phrase means, "[an argument] against the man" (or, in our case, "rodent").

[11] In addition to the cases mentioned in Footnote 22 from Chapter 1, I will also use Nadsat in my GMD fanfics if it is spoken by, or used in reference to, a Slavic character like Agent 001, since Nadsat is a 'slanguage' that's largely derived from Russian vocabulary.

[12] Hopefully, this will satisfactorily answer certain reviewers' questions as to why Felicia didn't eat any of Ratigan's thugs during their time away from the sewer lair.

[13] The details & aspects of Shellington Batly's "double-life" will be further explained & explored in future chapters.

[14] Some of you may not be pleased with the use of lollipops as a substitute for smoking products...although one has to admit, it _does_ make for a bit of good humor.

[15] To any of you GMD fans who also love Kubrick: if Eunice reminds you of the Catlady from "_A Clockwork Orange_", she very well should! The Catlady happens to be one of Eunice's main character models, as well as an appearance / design model (note the red hair & turquoise outfit). Additionally, Eunice shares the same last name as the portrayer of the Catlady, Miriam Karlin...who, incidentally, I imagine providing Eunice's voice for the film version of the sequel (or, if Ms. Karlin is unavailable for any reason, I'll find a bloody good impersonator to do the job!).

[16] For those of you who didn't already get the in-joke, that entire part of the chapter was one big reference to "_Chicago_"—mainly the movie version, which my sister & I both love. "_Cell Block Tango_" happens to be one of our mutual favorite songs from the soundtrack, & I had it in mind when I wrote the dialogue for the scene with Eunice & Gunsmoke Gary.

[17] I can imagine Greg Duffell providing the voice of Peewee Pete for the film version of GMD 2. In case you don't know, Mr. Duffell is one of the voice actors in an animated movie called "_Rock & Rule_" (which I happen to be a big fan of, & would gladly recommend to any of you who haven't seen it). He provides the voice of a character named Stretch, who speaks in a high-pitched voice (very much like the one I have in mind when I'm writing Peewee Pete's dialogue).


	4. Chapter 3: Hard Times

**THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE 2: A NEW BEGINNING  
**A "_Great Mouse Detective_" Fanfiction By The Mouse Avenger

Chapter 3:  
Hard Times

_**Tuesday, September 22, 1897**_

_(CUE MUSIC: "Neptune", from Gustav Holst's "The Planets")_

The Mouse Gypsy Caravan at Trafalgar Square was more busy & bustling than ever before, especially after the success of Madame Ratburn & Anya's experiment! In addition to dealing with the usual psychic & otherworldly affairs, the elderly sage was helping Anya make new inventions at the New Technology Factory, & otherwise assisting her in implementing modern notions & novelties (like shopping malls or emergency phone numbers)...not to mention she was also getting technology requests & suggestions from rodents around the world, when she wasn't receiving visits from her usual clients & customers. And Madame Ratburn & Anya were kept even _more_ occupied with all the banquets & dinner parties they were invited to every week! Sometimes, Madame Ratburn would literally be exhausted after all the activity, & in order to give the clairvoyant the time she needed to regain her lost energy, Pias & the other Mouse Gypsies would often offer to work as Anya's helpers. To be honest, Madame Ratburn didn't know how much longer she could keep up with the frenetic pace of her new life—at least, not with her usual routines. If she was going to be able to continue to fulfill her fursonal duties, there would have to be some changes made in her daily schedule, some alterations in her lifestyle...but Madame Ratburn was sure that she could successfully make those sacrifices, &—since she believed the benefits ultimately outweighed the risks—she was quite willing to do so. In the meantime, Madame Ratburn was perfectly content to sit with Anya & Pias at her table, where the 3 rodents were sharing a late lunch. As they all helped themselves to their delicious midday meal, the friends engaged in several conversations with one another, chatting over various topics.

At one point, while she was pouring some tea for Pias, Madame Ratburn asked the gardener, "So, tell me, Pias, have you noticed the changes that have been occurring in Mouse London?"

Pias nodded his head, then took his newly-filled teacup into his clawed paws, as he replied, "Well, the answer to that question should be fairly obvious to you, Madame Ratburn..." He paused to take a sip of his drink, before continuing, "The city—not to mention the entire mouse world—has undergone a complete revolution, & technology & society have improved greatly in the last several weeks...just as you predicted."

"Yes," Madame Ratburn uttered in response, as she telekinetically spread some butter on a slice of bread with a knife. After taking the snack into her mouth, & eating it, the psychic added, "But do you realize that there are even _more_ changes to occur?"

"I have no doubt in my mind that you are correct," Pias answered pleasantly. "If we rodents were able to gain a new technology, adopt the ways of modern life, & overcome our social, racial, & other differences over the past month, then who knows what else we could accomplish in the years to come?"

Upon hearing the Gypsy gardener's response to her question, Madame Ratburn couldn't help but smile & chuckle a little, before telling her pal in a playful manner, "That's not exactly what I'm talking about, Pias." With a wave of her paw, Madame Ratburn caused one of the tomes on her big bookcase to disappear off the shelf...before reappearing above the table, & floating over the heads of the medium & her friends. Telekinetically opening the levitating book to reveal the illustrations painted on its pages, Madame Ratburn said in her "mystical" voice (which she often adopted in these situations), "Otherworldly sources are telling me that a prophecy from the days of long ago is bound to come true very, very soon." [1]

Looking at the book's illustrations with Madame Ratburn & Anya, Pias remarked, "Ah, I see...But what is the prophecy?"

Flipping each page to reveal a new picture that seemed to perfectly accompany the words she spoke, Madame Ratburn explained, "Well, many of the ancient mouse sorcerers of Medieval England predicted that shortly before the dawn of the last century of the second millennium—er, that would probably be around this time—a super-terrible force of evil would rise to power, & begin spreading its wicked influence over the United Mouse Kingdom."

"So Mouse London is to succumb to a reign of unholy terror?" Anya asked anxiously, not entirely sure what to make of what Madame Ratburn had just told her & Pias.

"I didn't say that, Anya," Madame Ratburn responded. "Please let me finish."

"Yes, of course, sorry," Anya apologized, &, with that, Madame Ratburn continued her explanation (complete with illustrations): "However, as I was saying earlier...according to the prophecy, there will be another force to stop the 'Legion'—er, 'League Of Villains'...a force of goodness & righteousness. But this force is not like anything you've ever seen...or ever will see again."

"What do you mean?" Pias questioned quizzically.

"Well, Pias," Madame Ratburn answered, "I mean that an unlikely group of rodents will band together to form the ultimate crime-fighting family, & save the mouse world from the forces of evil."

"But who are these rodents?" Pias asked, as his curiosity became even stronger. "What are their names?"

"And where do they come from?" Anya wondered aloud.

Madame Ratburn just smiled, her expression taking on that playful quality once again. "That, I'm afraid, you'll just have to find out for yourself," the sage replied teasingly, before closing the book shut, & "mind-moving" it back over to her bookcase. Then, Madame Ratburn turned back to face Pias & Anya at the table...but before the 3 rodents could continue their conversations while they finished their lunch, Pias & Anya both looked concerned when they saw Madame Ratburn begin to shiver & shudder violently, as if she felt a cold draft blowing through the wagon.

Reaching for a nearby blanket, which she proceeded to drape around Madame Ratburn in the hopes of warding off her chills, Anya asked worriedly, "Are you all right, Elizabella? Is something wrong?"

It took a few minutes to pass, before Madame Ratburn stopped shaking, & finally made her answer in a grave tone-of-voice: "I'm getting a strong sense of negative energy...Something dreadful is happening, somewhere...in Mouse London..." Then, she began to receive little flashes of visions in her mind that gave her a somewhat-clearer picture of the situation: "Yes, it's happening on Walnut Avenue...Lower 3314...Poor Hiram Flaversham & his family are struggling...with their business...No, not just that...They're at the poverty level..."

"Who are the Flavershams?" asked Anya, having never heard of them before.

"A Scottish mouse toymaker & his young daughter," Madame Ratburn replied in that still-somber tone. "They have another mouseling, a relative, with them...He happens to be Mr. Flaversham's nephew, & his daughter's cousin...He's been living with them for the past few weeks...&, unfortunately, he, too, is sharing in his family's suffering...That's all I can tell you right now." As she wrapped her blanket more tightly around herself, Madame Ratburn's expression grew melancholy, & the psychic said with a sorrowful shake of her head, "Poor Mr. Flaversham...poor little mouselings! I only wish there was something I could do to help them somehow..."

* * *

Sometimes, the weather in Mouse London could be very unpredictable. One moment, it would be sunny & clear, & the next, it would be overcast. Such was the case for this particular afternoon, for the sun had suddenly disappeared behind the blanket of nimbostratus clouds that were now appearing in the skies, covering Mouse London in their canopy of gloomy gray & silver hues. Occasionally, stray leaves & bits of garbage flew about in the September wind, which now carried a sharp, biting sting in its chilly caresses. On the pavement outside Walnut Avenue, hardly any rodents were to be seen...except for a tomboyish-looking newspaper mousette who walked down the sidewalk, waving her wares in the air, as she announced the headlines of the afternoon editions of certain gazettes: "Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Flaversham's Toy Shop is losing in the struggle with competing rivals! Small business is suffering in the shadows of super-companies in the New Industrial Revolution! Read all about it!" As the newspaper mousette said this, she did not realize that she was standing right outside Flaversham's Toy Shop...which had really gone to Hades since Hiram reopened it.

_(CUE MUSIC: 1st movement of Giaochino Rossini's "William Tell Overture" [abridged version from the "Clockwork Orange" soundtrack])_ [2]

If one were to have stepped inside the main room of the building at Lower 3314 Walnut Avenue, one would have been shocked to see how much it had changed in the last month! The toy shop now looked deteriorated & dilapidated from days of neglect. Dust & filth & cobwebs were now starting to gather everywhere, & on everything. The bulb in the lamp over the worktable was now burnt out...& had been for quite some time, along with the lights in the rest of the building, for Hiram could no longer afford to pay his electric bill; as a result, all the rooms were void of any illumination, & were continually left in a state of deep, dismal darkness. The steel box & cash register that Hiram kept on his desk were void of any money, & not a single toy had been taken off the shelves. In short, the place was an absolute, miserable wreck—far from the image the Flavershams had once had of their business blossoming & flourishing in the month since it was reopened! And, already, Olivia, Hiram, & Cousin Timmy were starting to feel the effects of the poverty that was afflicting them. Their clothes were worn, ragged, & dirty, but they had no money to buy new outfits. They had been rendered thin & frail from excessive hunger, & had grown sickly & pale from malnutrition, but they had no money to buy food. Their expressions were sad & melancholy...& even Olivia could not seem to find a reason to smile anymore. Staring at her father with wide, sunken eyes, Olivia said in a throaty, raspy voice, "Daddy...I'm hungry."

"I know, dear," Hiram replied sadly, petting his daughter's fur-hair.

"Hey...what about me, Uncle Hiram?" Cousin Timmy asked in a hoarse, haggard voice. "I'm hungry, too."

"Well, I'm hungrier than you are, Timmy!" Olivia retorted, putting up a weak argument. After coughing into her tiny hand, the mouseling added, "I don't think I've eaten in over a day..." She placed her paw on her empty belly, & said, "My tummy hurts."

"Yeah, mine, too," Cousin Timmy assented. "And my head hurts...& my tail hurts...&, well...everything hurts."

"I'm sure it does, Timmy," Hiram said empathetically, nodding his head in agreement. "I'm hurting a little, too, now that you mention it."

By this point, Olivia was being driven closer & closer to the point of despair, & all sorts of horrible fears & worries were beginning to consume her soul. "What do we do, Daddy?" Olivia asked Hiram, unable to hide the growing desperation she was feeling in her family's dire situation. "If we don't eat something soon, we'll all get sick, &...&...die." Tears sprang to her blue eyes, & the Glaswegian girl hugged her father tightly, whimpering sadly, "I don't want to die, Daddy..."

Hiram held Olivia close, & tried to comfort his daughter. "It'll be all right, dear," he told her gently, yet with firm determination. "I promise you, we'll get through this. The Flaversham family always makes it through the best of times..."

"...& the worst of times," Olivia finished her father's favorite saying, her voice cracking tearfully, as she shivered with a sob. After coughing a bit, Olivia began to cry softly, hiding her tears in Hiram's shirtfront. Still, the toymaker continued to console Olivia, trying to ease her fears & sorrows as best as he could.

Then, a few minutes later, the heartrending scene was interrupted when Olivia, Hiram, & Cousin Timmy all reacted to the sound of approaching footsteps. Putting Olivia down on the floor, Hiram gasped, & cried, "Customers!" Without wasting another second, Hiram quickly ran to the door of the toy shop, & opened it, stepping out onto the pavement. Olivia & Cousin Timmy both made a dash for the display window, still filled with numerous toys that were all covered in dust, before crawling up onto the ledge, & gazing through the filthy windowpanes to get a better look at the action going on outside. The two mouselings watched Hiram approaching various rodents in the massive crowd that was gathering on the sidewalk of Walnut Avenue. As he made his way through the mob, Hiram vainly tried to get passersby to come into his building, pleading with each furson he spoke to in absolute desperation: "Madame, are you interested in buying toys? How about you, sir? Are you interested in buying any toys today? Excuse me..."

At one point, Hiram approached a well-dressed gentlemouse, asking him, "My good mouse...By any chance, are you interested in buying toys?" When the gentlemouse began walking away, Hiram clung to his jacket-tails, begging with the fellow to show some compassion for him & his loved ones. "Please, sir, have pity on a poor, starving family!" the toymaker pleaded. The irritated gentlemouse managed to free himself from Hiram's grasp, however, & Hiram fell flat on his face...but no one came to his aid. No one came over to ask if he was all right, let alone help him back up onto his feet. No one offered to assist him in his time of need...

Hiram could almost-literally feel himself becoming lost in the crowd, alienated by his overwhelming sense of despair & helplessness. Didn't _anyone_ care about him? Didn't _anyone_ care about what he & his family were going through? Whatever happened to the basic Mousetorian values of love, generosity, kindness, compassion, & charity? Had they disappeared with the dawning of the Neo-Mousetorian Age? Were the principles of the new society so different from those of the previous decades, that all the old virtues had been completely forgotten? Hiram didn't know...&, quite frankly, he didn't even want to _think_ about what the answers to those questions might be. As he rose to his feet, swept the dust off his clothing, went back to his sidewalk search, & continued to plead with passersby, trying to bring their attention to his toy shop, the only thing that Hiram _could_ think was that this new technology (& everything having to do with it) was _not_ a godsend for small-business owners like him; in fact, it was the very cause of all their latest problems...

* * *

_**Wednesday, September 23, 1897**_

Much to the Flavershams' dismay, the rest of Tuesday had ended up in no arrival of customers, no sales, & no money, which made the evening a very miserable one for Hiram, Olivia, & Cousin Timmy. Hiram had to go to Sophie's Flower Shop on the corner to ask his neighbor & friend for some cash to buy dinner; Sophie, being the kind & generous furson she was, was all-too-happy to help Hiram, & she gave him 10 pounds, with which the toymaker bought meals for himself, his daughter, & his nephew. [3] The Flavershams ended up going to bed with full stomachs, & they managed to sleep soundly through the night, but Hiram—always an early riser—woke up an hour sooner than he normally liked to do. Having nothing else to do with the extra time on his paws, Hiram decided to get dressed in his work outfit, & ever since 6:30 AM, he had been sitting at his table in the main room, working on new sets of toys for potential customers. The events of the previous day, though disheartening, did not leave the Scotsmouse discouraged; he continued to work at his craft with never-wavering determination & perseverance, certain that today would be a better day for business. With each passing second, his spirits seemed to lift just a little more, especially as the toy shop became filled with the first rays of early-morning sunlight...All the while, Hiram worked on making the new toys in serene silence—a silence only pierced by the melodies of songbirds, the hum of vehicle motors, & the occasional footsteps of pedestrians.

One would hardly think that Hiram would have any reason to feel cheerful, especially after yesterday's unsuccessful attempts to attract customers to the toy shop. But Hiram simply _couldn't_ give up hope—to do so would be going against his very nature as an optimist & an idealist! Yes, there were bad times that came about in one's life; there were sometimes storms to weather, rough roads to travel, obstacles to overcome...but all of those feats could successfully be undertaken! As long as one kept hope in his or her heart, there was no mountain that couldn't be climbed, no star that couldn't be reached, no river that couldn't be crossed, no adversity or adversary that couldn't be defeated! To lose hope was to lose sight of _all_ possibilities for the future, & that was the first step on the road to fursonal defeat. No matter how grim things seemed, no matter how dire or desperate a situation looked, Hiram could not—_would_ not—let himself give up hope in _any_ way, shape, or form; he _needed_ to hold onto that hope, & he _needed_ to keep faith in his heart, to never let it waver for one second...Otherwise, things wouldn't even have a _chance_ of getting better.

And, yet, there were certain facts that Hiram had to face. His business was failing, & his family had now unofficially reached the poverty level. He wasn't getting any customers, &, therefore, he had no money to even buy basic necessities. He needed to find a way to keep his family afloat, but he didn't want to keep asking his neighbors for money all the time...Oh, Hiram knew there just _had_ to be a way to bring him & his loved ones out of their financial straits, but what was it? What could Hiram do to remedy those problems while he tried to get his business going again? After thinking about it for a while, the toymaker finally got an idea: why not listen to the radio for some inspiration? With that in mind, Hiram reached underneath his worktable, & took out a portable radio that he had bought a couple of weeks ago. Once he had placed said radio on the surface of his desk, Hiram turned it on, adjusted the volume so that only he could hear it, & began fiddling with the dials, hoping to find a good station to listen to.

As he manipulated the radio, Hiram started to reflect on his thoughts about the new technology—every opinion he had formed of it since that first night in Mouse London. Ultimately, he believed it _did_ have certain drawbacks, & there were some negative effects that the technology had on fursons who owned small businesses...fursons like the Flavershams. And in those aspects, the new technology was partially to blame for these businessrodents' entrepreneurial / financial difficulties, so it did play a role in the Flavershams' crisis. But it was not the only factor, & it was most certainly not an entirely-bad thing—far from it! In all his life, Hiram could never have imagined that they would make fast food, microwaves, radios, GPS tracking devices, mobile phones, computers, airplanes, or any of the other inventions that had been produced in the last two months! So many wonderful things had been created, helping to improve the lives of rodents around the world, & Hiram dared not even _consider_ denouncing Madame Ratburn & Anya for making them! In short, the new technology was a mixed blessing, with pros & cons, with upsides & downsides...like many other things in the mouse world. Hiram just wished that the downsides didn't have such a big impact on folks who practiced simpler trades...

Although, to be honest, Hiram _did_ have to admit that he didn't understand some things about the new technology, & there were certain issues related to particular aspects of it that bothered him. The main thing that troubled him was the formation of super-companies—powerful business corporations that had an unfortunate tendency to leave smaller enterprises in the proverbial dust, unless they somehow managed to keep up in the ever-quickening pace of the industrial race. That, in itself, was disconcerting enough, but there was something else, too...While Hiram normally made it a fursonal rule to always see the best in rodents, he couldn't help but sometimes question the characters of the super-company owners. He (along with several other rodents in Mouse London) had heard rumors about corruption, embezzlement, fraud, environmental damage, & other awful acts on the part of the "big business" bosses—the rumors about child labor & exploitation, in particular, were the worst of all! Hiram wasn't one to instantly buy into rumors, & he never thought it was wise to do so—_especially_ when said rumors eerily resembled the ones that were circulating just a few months ago, before the Month Of Change...Hiram hoped the rumors about child labor weren't true. He _prayed_ they weren't true! And, yet, what if they were? He couldn't stomach the thought of poor, impoverished mouselings being forced to work in factories from sunrise to sunset, toiling under cruel treatment from overseers, with hardly any breaks for food, relaxation, or rest? Those kinds of practices were supposed to be a thing of the past, especially after Queen Mousetoria put certain laws into effect several years ago... [4]

Additionally, there was one other issue that really worried Hiram. The toy companies that had formed in the wake of the technology boost were producing playthings of modern function & design—most of these were made of plastic, polyester, & PVC, but some were made of metal materials, too. Some of the new toys had buttons, some of them had switches, some of them had lights, some of them talked, some of them walked, some of them sang & danced...but no matter what their purpose was, or what functions they performed, all the toys came in a wide variety of shapes, sizes, colors, & appearances. In some ways, they weren't so much different from the traditional toys that folks like Hiram liked to make...but they seemed to be catching rodentlings' interest a lot more these days. Hiram had to admit, the craftsmouseship used in making the new toys was impressive—in fact, it almost rivaled his own! But, still, not much love or care went into the process of producing these modern playthings; for all their glitz & glamour, they couldn't seem to convey that warm, fuzzy feeling one got when (s)he played with a pawmade choo-choo train, or snuggled a smiling dolly...

Hiram was not one to wish ill will on any business rival (except a particular one he knew), even the rodents who worked in these new toy companies. [5] He was a staunch supporter of the idea of free enterprise; business was a game in which all participants should have a fair turn, & no one "player" should have an unfair advantage over another. The game would have its winners & its losers...but, in the end, what mattered most was that _everyone_ played honestly, & at least had a reasonable chance of winning, if nothing more. And Hiram was _not_ going to be one of the cheaters or sore losers that ruined the game for everyone; he never had any intention of doing so. But, still, he couldn't help but wonder if those new toy companies were gaining an unfair advantage over smaller businesses...Maybe, that was the reason why traditional toys seemed to be dying out? Why Hiram wasn't getting the support of any customers? Why Hiram's toy shop was struggling just to remain open? It certainly seemed to be the case...but, hopefully, Hiram could find a way to keep up in the industrial race, to overcome the problems he was facing now. And if, somehow, he couldn't, he could still support himself as a regular inventor; he had plenty of skill in that field, too. [6] But, still, it would be very hard for him to close up the toy shop he had run for several years, ever since he first moved to Mouse London...

_But enough worrying about that,_ Hiram thought, as he finally switched to the KBIZ radio station—the very station where he hoped to find ideas & inspiration for a way to deal with his trials & tribulations. The early-morning show was on, & Hiram listened carefully to every word the announcer said, while trying to calm his excited nerves by working on his new batch of toys. "Good morning, morning, morning, Mouse London!" the announcer chirped cheerfully. "And a big 'hello' to all you early birds who are listening in now! It's a bright, beautiful Wednesday morning, as sunny & clear as any dawn you'll see in our lovely city, & have we got great news for you! Mainly about the toy industry...but, seriously, who _hasn't_ been talking about that the last few weeks?" The announcer let out a chuckle, before continuing, "Anyway, let's start off the news with the latest toy releases, shall we? OK, first, Jingo Toys just put out the latest set of Hot Rods miniature vehicles..." [7]

On & on, the announcer went, as he talked about all the newest & hottest toys on the market, from Miss Molly Cuddles' baby sister, to the Mr. Cheese Head toy (complete with accessories)...It was a while before he finally got to the part of the news that Hiram had _really_ wanted to listen to: the latest developments in the toy industry! "Well, the new companies are moving right along in the toymaking race," said the announcer, "& we're seeing more & more signs of it every day. The Big Rainbow Toy Company, Jingo Toys, Funtime Toys, & Childhood Wonders are the Top 4 companies right now, & I have no doubt that we'll find out what other corporations are taking the lead...just as soon as we get more word from our reporters. But, in any case, business appears to be booming for our big super-companies! I swear, _every_ _time_ one of them releases new toys on the market, the customers start lining up, as soon as word reaches their ears! And let me tell you, once the doors to the toy stores open, all those playthings start selling like hotcakes!"

As he listened to these reports, Hiram began to get increasingly angry. It was almost as if that malicious radio announcer was mocking him, taunting him with his reports of children who were "happily" buying toys from companies who probably made them in sweatshops, on the backs of thousands of poor, miserable orphans! It was enough to make him sick. Hoping to distract himself from the dark thoughts brewing inside his head, Hiram went back to working on his toys, as he listened to the rest of the announcer's speech: "Well, anyway, let's wrap up the news with one final announcement. A brand-new toy store has just opened at the London Mouse Mini-Mall! So, if you're into playthings as much as I am, come on down to Toyland for some of the coolest toys ever invented!"

That did it. Hiram, no longer able to contain his inner rage, banged his fist against the radio, shutting it off; then, he promptly slammed his tools down on the surface of his worktable, got up out of his seat, & went over to open the front door, hoping a few deep breaths of fresh morning air would help him calm down. As he walked out onto the pavement of Walnut Avenue, bathed in the pale glow of the early-morning sunlight, Hiram could feel a little bit of his stress leaving him each time he inhaled & exhaled...but he still couldn't help but worry about his family's future, or be upset that he didn't get the inspiration or ideas he was looking for. The radio show did _not_ give him the answers he needed so desperately to those questions rolling around inside his head, & that announcer didn't really help matters, either, rambling on about every topic except how to keep your small toy shop from going out of business. _I guess I'll have to look for help from other sources, _Hiram thought wearily, hoping that he would, indeed, be able to find it...

Then, on a whim, Hiram looked down at the sidewalk beneath him...& his thick red eyebrows flew up in surprise! A large supply of food was laid out neatly in a pile at his feet, with a small piece of paper on top of it. Hiram couldn't believe his luck—he & his family would have enough food to last them until the start of next week! But who had given the provisions to the Flavershams in the first place? Hoping the piece of paper would provide him with some answers, Hiram picked it up in his paw, & read aloud from the text written upon it: "To the Flavershams...This should suffice as a good meal for the next few days, yes? Whenever you run out of food, just place a black piece of construction paper in your window, & I'll gladly give you some more, yes? If you need anything else, just give me a little whistle, yes? Sincerely, Mr. P.R. Altoid." [8]

When he read this message, Hiram couldn't help but burst into a wide, broad smile...a smile that never left his face for one second, even as he bent down to pick up the food, & brought it into his house. As he was making his way through the main room, & into the kitchen, Hiram couldn't wait to prepare breakfast for himself, Olivia, & Cousin Timmy! And when Hiram began laying out the food & drinks on the counter, he was delighted with all the wonderful goodies that Mr. Altoid had provided...He quickly got to work making the morning meal, his taste buds tingling in absolute anticipation of the treats he planned to eat during the Flavershams' upcoming breakfast. Then, when Hiram was finally done, he set the table, before leaving the kitchen / dining room to enter Olivia's room. Quickly, quietly, the toymaker went over to the bed where Olivia & Cousin Timmy were still sleeping, & proceeded to gently shake the mouselings to rouse them from their slumber. "Children...Children, wake up!" Hiram said excitedly to his daughter & nephew, as he watched them stir from their _sommeil_, & rub the sleepiness out of their eyes. "Guess what we're having for breakfast?"

Olivia & Cousin Timmy both burst into wide smiles when they heard this. "Breakfast?" Olivia echoed delightedly, unable to contain her inner exhilaration.

"Really, Uncle Hiram?" Cousin Timmy questioned excitedly. "What'd you get?"

"Follow me! You'll see!" Hiram told Olivia & Timmy, making his way out of the bedroom, as the Flaversham cousins (still dressed in their fuschia nightgown & light-blue pajamas) both crawled out of bed, & followed him into the kitchen / dining room. Upon entering, Hiram displayed to Olivia & Cousin Timmy all the delicious food & drinks that were now laid out on the table: small pieces of cheese, apple juice in glasses, yogurt in bowls, toast with butter & jam, & cheese pancakes dripping with butter & maple syrup...Before they even knew it, Olivia & Cousin Timmy could feel their mouths watering! They couldn't _wait_ to sink their teeth into the veritable smorgasbord that was their breakfast!

As she gave Hiram a great big hug, & rushed over to the dining table, Olivia cried out ecstatically, "Oh, thank you so much, Daddy! We'll have a real banquet today!" [9]

"Yeah, Uncle Hiram, you seriously rock!" Cousin Timmy exclaimed joyfully, rushing over to join Olivia at the table. Happy that the morning had turned out a lot more pleasantly than he originally expected, Hiram couldn't help but continue to smile, as he went off to take his seat by the two mouselings...but there was one thing about Cousin Timmy's compliment that puzzled him—his unusual choice of words. _Rock?_ [10]

* * *

For the next half-hour, Olivia, Cousin Timmy, & Hiram sat together at the table, happily eating their breakfast. Despite their hunger, the 3 mice made sure not to rush, & ate their food slowly, so that they could fully savor the delectable flavors of their cheese pancakes, apple juice, yogurt, toast, & pieces of cheese. As they tucked into their morning meal, none of the Flavershams engaged in the family's usual practice of sharing conversations; instead, they were concentrating on getting as much food into their stomachs as they could, for they wanted to make their new provisions hold out for as long as possible—& that meant no snacking in between meals. _Hopefully, that will only be a temporary measure,_ Hiram thought optimistically, _until we can get the toy shop back on its feet again._

After a while, the Flavershams were nearly finished with their breakfast...& Olivia & Cousin Timmy both looked down, eyeing the last piece of cheese that was on the table. It was a big chunk of cheddar, colored in a lush golden hue, with a smooth texture. How delectable it looked...but Olivia didn't know if there would be enough of it for two mouselings to share. Looking up at Hiram in the hopes that he could satisfactorily settle the situation, Olivia asked, "Ummm...who do you think should get the last piece of cheese, Daddy?" When her father (who was continuing to eat the last of his morning meal) didn't answer, Olivia looked at Cousin Timmy...& saw how wide his eyes were becoming at the sight of that yummy hunk of cheddar. Feeling sorry & sympathetic for her kinsmouse, Olivia said, "I guess...maybe, you could have it, Timmy, if you want it."

With that, Olivia pushed the plate with the piece of cheese in Cousin Timmy's direction. Timmy paused for a moment or two, wondering whether or not he should take it. On one hand (paw?), he was still a little hungry, & Olivia had been so generous to offer him the last of the food...It would be foolish for him not to take it! But on the other hand, he wasn't _that_ hungry, after all he had eaten for breakfast...& he thought that, maybe, Olivia would like the piece of cheese, instead. After thinking it over for a few moments, Cousin Timmy finally decided to push the piece of cheese back to Olivia, & replied, "Thanks a bunch, Livvy, but I'm full. You can have it."

Stunned by her cousin's reciprocal display of generosity, Olivia said hesitantly, "OK..." Slowly, she reached for the piece of cheese...but just as she was about to grab it, Cousin Timmy suddenly changed his mind, & he snatched the cheddar away from her at the last minute. As he took the dairy-based snack into his paws, Cousin Timmy said with hungry desperation in his voice, "On second thought, Livvy, I think I could use a _little_ more food to fill my stomach..."

It wasn't long before Olivia & Cousin Timmy ended up fumbling & grappling for the piece of cheese, arguing & fighting loudly with one another, as they tumbled out of their seats, & landed on the floor. In the midst of the argument, Olivia tugged on that coveted morsel of food, trying to pry it away from Cousin Timmy, as she told him angrily, "No, Timmy, you said _I_ could have that last piece of cheese!" The ensuing scuffle between the Flaversham cousins continued, as they took their fight out of the kitchen, down the hallway, & all the way into the main room of the toy shop. When they got there, not noticing the change in their surroundings, Olivia & Cousin Timmy kept on squabbling & playing "tug-of-war" with the piece of cheese...until Hiram finally came in, & snatched the chunk of cheddar away from both mouselings.

_(CUE MUSIC: "Valse Triste", by Jean Sibelius)_

"Now, that's enough, both of you!" Hiram shouted irritatedly, as he took the piece of cheese, & brought it up towards himself. Holding the food up before his daughter & nephew, Hiram glared down sternly at Olivia & Cousin Timmy, as he said scoldingly, "I don't want you two rugrats fighting! In these dark & dismal times, we all have to get along, & stick together!"

As they stood before Hiram on the toy shop floor, Olivia & Cousin Timmy became filled with feelings of shame & remorse for their earlier behavior, & the two mouselings both cast downcast gazes to the ground, sporting guilty frowns. Wringing his paws nervously, Cousin Timmy apologized, "Sorry, Uncle Hiram..."

"Sorry, Daddy," Olivia said repentantly. "We were just both still hungry, &..."

"That's no excuse for you to be squabbling & arguing with each other," Hiram told Olivia & Cousin Timmy, continuing to look down at the children (although, by this point, his glare had softened a little). "Right now, the only thing that matters is that we should work together, & try to find a way out of this terrible situation that we face now. Do you understand, wee ones?"

"Yes, sir," Olivia & Cousin Timmy replied in unison, nodding their heads in affirmation.

"Good," Hiram remarked in satisfaction. Then, he broke the piece of cheese into two halves, & handed each one to Olivia & Cousin Timmy. As he did this, the toymaker added, "Sometimes, when we can't agree on an issue, we need to learn how to make a compromise." The Flaversham cousins both looked up at Hiram, giving him their complete & undivided attention while they listened to his words...before finally gazing down at the pieces of cheese they held in their paws. The two mouselings slowly began eating the cheddar in savory nibbles, making sure to get their fill of every bite they took into their mouths, for it would be a few hours until they could eat again at lunchtime. All the while, Olivia & Cousin Timmy kept Hiram's advice in mind, determined to never let it leave their heads. Who knew when they would be called upon to follow that advice, & put Hiram's words of guidance into practice?

* * *

Later that day, the Flavershams were all together in the main room, dressed in their day clothes (& looking a lot healthier, now that they'd eaten breakfast & lunch). The 3 mice were seated at the worktable, where Olivia & Timmy were helping Hiram make toys, as they often liked to do on quiet afternoons like this one. Even though their business had been failing, father, daughter, & cousin continued to work diligently at their trade, hoping that they (& their toy shop) would be blessed with another stroke of good fortune, as they were on that day in August, when Mr. Altoid came to visit...As he & his loved ones worked on making the new toys that they planned to sell to their potential customers, Hiram tried to keep Olivia & Cousin Timmy's spirits up with cheerful conversations & festive sing-alongs, which the family eagerly engaged in throughout their long, leisurely labor. The time seemed to fly by for the Flavershams, & before they even knew it, their work was nearly finished! Soon, all they would have left to do, was to wait for customers to come around...

At one point, Hiram's ears perked up to the sound of footsteps walking down the pavement. Turning to face Olivia (who was seated on his right), Hiram pointed yonder, & asked his daughter, "Dear, could you go over to the window, & see who's outside?"

With that, Olivia got out of her chair, & scampered over to the big front window, before climbing onto the ledge, & looking outside. At first, the mouseling could only hear the footsteps echoing on the empty street of Walnut Avenue...until, a few seconds later, she began to see a figure approaching the toy shop. Said figure's appearance was made hazy & unclear by the dirty, fogged-up glass of the shop's front window, but Olivia could _just_ make out the outline of a tall mouse with a prominent nose...& a deerstalker cap on his head! As she gazed outside the window with her paws & nose pressed against the pane, Olivia gaped in open-mouthed shock when she recognized the identity of the visitor...She barely managed to overcome her stunned silence with a single squeak of disbelief: "_Basil__?_" Olivia's surprise grew when she saw her friend's ears perking up in response to the sound of her calling his name...& only increased even _more_ when Basil turned around to face _her!_ For a moment, the Great Mouse Detective seemed to return Olivia's shocked look, complete with a gaping mouth...Then, just as soon as the mice's gazes had met, Basil turned away from the window, & hurriedly began walking down the pavement, going further & further away from the toy shop...until he finally turned the corner, & disappeared down the Crown Street offshoot.

As she watched Basil make his hasty exit, Olivia's earlier expression of shock gradually turned into a sad frown, as her face fell, & her ears drooped miserably. In the span of a few short seconds, so many thoughts & emotions had gone through the mouseling's mind...Never mind that Olivia was surprised to see Basil in the first place! What was he doing on Walnut Avenue? Why was he walking by the toy shop? Had he got wind of her family's situation? Had he come to check on her? Or did he just want to stop by, & say "hello"? But why did he leave when she called his name? Did he not want to help her & her family? Or, maybe, he was just feeling scared, & didn't know what to do? Had he gone to get help, or to find a way to remedy her situation? Or did he choose to ignore her? Or—oh, horror of horrors!—had he _forgotten_ about her? Had he done the very thing that he swore he'd never do?

Such a vast range of different possibilities was too difficult for Olivia to handle, & she began to feel greatly discouraged; she wasn't really sure what to make of Basil's disappearance, but she had a deep, sinking feeling that it wasn't going to lead to any changes in the lives of her & her loved ones..._unless_ the detective came back. But _would_ he come back? Olivia didn't know...& she dreaded to think about the answer. It was all too much for her to bear...

"Who was it, dear?" Hiram asked, bringing Olivia out of her gloomy reverie...but not out of her state of sadness.

Closing her eyes, Olivia shook her head sorrowfully, as she made her melancholy reply: "Nobody, Daddy." With that, she pulled away from the window, made her way down off the ledge, & went back over to join Hiram & Cousin Timmy at the worktable, now having lost sight of that one glimmer of hope that had appeared to her so briefly...

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: Antonio Vivaldi's "Cello Concerto In E Minor", as performed by Leonard Rosenman)_

Once again, the afternoon had passed without any signs of the Flavershams' business improving, & when evening came, the family closed up the toy shop at 7:00 PM, as they did every day. 2-&-½ hours had passed since then, & the building at Lower 3314 Walnut Avenue was largely quiet on this clear, starlit evening. The overhead lamp & other lights were still "burnt out", but Hiram had filled the house with the warm, cozy glow of candles & kerosene lamps; outdated though these things were, they would be able to provide some light in the toy shop & living quarters, until Hiram could pay his electric bills again. In the meantime, the toymaker, his daughter, & his nephew contented themselves to placing their newly-finished stock of toys on all the shelves & display cases, as well as the front window-ledge. Already, the 3 mice had swept all the rooms, & cleaned the place up to make it look more presentable for potential future customers. Again, the Flaversham family simply would not even _consider_ entertaining the notion of giving into defeat, & one had to be amazed at their stout, stalwart resolution & their staunch refusal to quit the battle they were now fighting.

After he helped Olivia & Cousin Timmy put the last of the new toys on the ledge of the display window, Hiram said, "Well, I think that's enough work for today, children. We've done everything we possibly can." He took a moment to wipe the sweat off his brow, before going over to take his seat at the worktable, as he added, "Now, we'll just have to see what the day will bring tomorrow." With that, Olivia & Cousin Timmy both went to sit down by Hiram, flanking the toymaker on either side.

For the next few seconds, none of the Flavershams spoke to one another...until Olivia decided to ask Hiram a question that had been on her mind in recent days. "Daddy?" the mouseling said, hoping to get her father's attention.

"Yes, dear?" Hiram responded, as he turned to face Olivia, who then proceeded to ask, "Are we ever going to get any customers?"

Hiram paused for a moment to consider his daughter's question, thinking of how he should reply. He tried to come up with a good answer, although it wasn't the easiest thing for him to do. Finally, after a long pause in thought, Hiram replied with a shake of his head, "I don't know, Olivia. It's been over 2 months since we met Basil Of Baker Street, & so much has happened since then...Now, fancy, new toys are being invented by all these big, powerful super-companies, & no one seems to want to buy old-fashioned, paw-crafted toys anymore...toys like the ones we sell." When he said that, Hiram gave a deep sigh, & rested his head in his hands, now beginning to feel just a bit glum. The more he really thought about the issues that his family & business were dealing with, the less likely it seemed that things would improve...The prognosis didn't look too good for the Flavershams, & Hiram was having an increasingly-hard time trying to ignore that fact. And, to be honest, he didn't even know if he _could_ anymore...

"But, maybe, they'll...want to start buying them again...Right, Daddy?" Olivia asked with some hesitancy, but still trying to remain hopeful.

"Maybe, dear," Hiram answered with a short nod of his head, but he thought he should explain to Olivia about the grim reality of the situation. "But in the meantime, we've already used up the money we earned from our earlier sales, so we really can't _wait_ for customers to come to our toy shop—well, not for much longer, anyway—because, as you very well know, we _need_ money from customers to keep the shop open for them in the first place...And if we don't get any customers, that means we won't earn any money."

A beat of silence passed, before Cousin Timmy dared to ask the question that everyone dreaded to hear: "And if we _don't_ earn any money...then what?"

Hiram literally struggled to make his reply to his nephew's inquiry. Wincing at the very thought of it, he answered, "Well, if that turns out to be the case, Timmy...I guess we'll have no choice...but to close up shop, &...put the place out of business."

When they heard this, Olivia & Cousin Timmy felt as though they had been hit with the force of a train; the two mouselings, completely frozen in shock, both found it hard to stomach the possibility of the bleak future that might face them. Olivia didn't want to believe that such a horrible fate would befall her & her loved ones! It _couldn't__!_ Her heart racing in panic, Olivia went over to Hiram, & crawled onto his lap, looking up into her father's eyes with a desperate gaze, as she pleaded with him, "_Please_, Daddy, tell me you're joking! You don't _possibly_ mean that, right?" Hiram only looked down at his daughter with a melancholy frown, & the truth of his words quickly sank in, filling Olivia with a sense of dread that absolutely chilled her to the bone. Shaking her head rapidly, & tugging fiercely on her father's apron, Olivia begged, "You _can't_ close the toy shop, Daddy! You just _can't__!_"

"I'm sorry about this, sweetheart," Hiram said sadly, as he gave Olivia a big hug. Then, more to himself than to her, he added, "If only there were some way to get my customers to come back..."

Now sporting a gloomy frown on her face, Olivia gently parted from the hug, slid down off her father's lap, landed feet-first on the floor, & slowly walked to her bedroom, trudging miserably with every step she took. She was feeling so many emotions, all of them of a negative nature—disheartened, distressed, depressed, downhearted, dejected...As Olivia walked down the hallway to her fursonal chambers, she could almost hear melancholy music playing in the air, providing a solemn atmosphere for what certainly felt like her funeral march...&, as far as Olivia was concerned, it may very well have been that. Only when Olivia opened the door to her room, & stepped inside, did she begin to find some peace of mind; here, in her humble sanctuary, she could _always_ find a way to escape her troubles, no matter how big or small they were. With her books, she could be whisked away to faraway worlds, explore uncharted territory, meet all sorts of fascinating figures, embark on exciting adventures...& leave the life she knew far behind. With paper & crayons (among other art tools), she could take nothing but the most pleasant thoughts & dreams that filled her head, & make them come to life...in a sense. With her toys & games, she could distract herself from her worries & fears in literally countless ways; the only limit was her imagination!

Now that she thought about it, Olivia decided that playing with some of her favorite toys might make her feel better, or at least help her to get her mind off her fursonal troubles. With that, she went over to one of her toy boxes, & opened it up, digging around through the contents of the container. There were so many playthings to choose from—tops, dolls, puzzles, marbles, balls, blocks, playsets, action figures, Rainbow Toys, & just about every other kind of toy you could think of!—but one in particular caught Olivia's eye. It resembled a fuschia lily blossom, with a golden wind-up key attached to it. _This is it, _Olivia thought, as she pulled the toy out of her wooden chest, took it into her arms, & brought it over the large table in the center of her room. _This is the only thing I want to play with right now. _After stopping to stand in front of the aforementioned table, Olivia placed the wind-up blossom on its smooth, oaken surface. With a wistful look in her eyes, Olivia wound up the key on the side of the toy lily, & gazed on as the fuschia-colored flower unfolded, opening its petals to reveal the dancing ballerina mouse she had received for her 10th birthday 2 months ago...

_(CUE SONG: "Please Send A Miracle [Olivia's Song]")_

The doll began to dance across the surface of the table, performing a series of graceful, lifelike movements in accompaniment with the tinny song that played in her built-in music box. It was a beautiful, almost-haunting melody that carried a lot of fursonal significance for Olivia. When Olivia was just a wee baby, her father had written that song for her, & used it as a lullaby to help her go to sleep at night. Olivia came to love that song very much; sometimes, Hiram & Olivia would sing it together while working at the toy shop...Thinking about all those memories of her past—memories that she normally looked back on with pleasant fondness, but were so painful to her now!—made Olivia want to cry, just a little, but she decided not to dwell on her inner agony, & quickly thought of the perfect way to distract herself from it. Closing her eyes, Olivia began a dance of her own that strangely, yet perfectly, imitated the ballet moves of her doll. As Olivia & her beloved ballerina toy danced together in unison to the music that played, the former started performing a song fit to the melody of her dancing doll's lullaby. A beautiful voice emerged from Olivia's lips, filling her bedroom with the most heavenly sound, as she sang...

_**My smile becomes a frown  
**__**As my world crashes down  
**__**My sunny skies  
**__**Are turning to gray**_

_**Don't let the darkness  
**__**Conquer my life!  
**__**Bring out the sun  
**__**And brighten my day**_

_**Not long ago,  
**__**My father was lost  
**__**You led him to me,  
**__**But for such a hefty cost**_

_**In this dark time,  
**__**I offer my plea  
**__**Please send a miracle  
**__**Answer this prayer  
**__**For me...**_

_**I wish for blessings  
**__**To fill my life  
**__**I wish that each day  
**__**Was empty of strife**_

_**I wish for hope  
**__**And happy days  
**__**I wish for fortune  
**__**And good things to come my way**_

_**Help me, dear Lord  
**__**Lessen my pain  
**__**Save me from darkness  
**__**And make my world bright again**_

_**In this bleak time,  
**__**I have only one plea  
**__**Please send a miracle  
**__**Answer this prayer  
**__**For me...**_

_**Please send a miracle  
**__**Answer this prayer  
**__**For me...**_

Once its lullaby had finished playing, the ballerina folded back up into a flower, & Olivia finished her dance with a deep curtsy, before going back to the table, picking up the fuschia lily, & gently putting it back in her toy box. After shutting the lid closed, Olivia decided to get changed into her nightclothes. It was 20 minutes until bedtime, & she needed to prepare for her nightly slumber—preferably, before Cousin Timmy came in to put on his pajamas...

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: Adagio movement from "Piano Concerto #23", by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart)_

Later, back in the main room of the toy shop, Hiram & Cousin Timmy were blowing out all the candles, in order to prevent accidental fire; by the time they were done, only the kerosene lamps were left burning. Said lamps filled the mostly-dark room with a warm, peaceful glow, which seemed to give the toy shop its old atmosphere of hominess...to an extent. After extinguishing the last candle with a puff of breath, Hiram told his nephew, "Well, Timmy, I think it's time we all went to bed."

"OK, Uncle Hiram," Cousin Timmy replied, making his way towards the bedroom he shared with Olivia.

"I'll come to tuck you in in about 5 minutes," Hiram told Cousin Timmy, as he watched him reach the end of the hallway. After he saw Timmy enter the children's room, & shut the door behind him, Hiram turned his head back to take a long, hard look at the main room of the toy shop...the shop he had opened up more than a decade ago...the shop where he (& even Olivia) had spent every day making toys, selling them to customers, & seeing the delighted smiles on their faces when they left with their purchased items...the shop where he had spent part of his spare time sweeping the old cobwebs that had gathered over the last month...

Hiram let out a deep sigh, as he became consumed with disconcerting thoughts of the future that probably awaited his family...his business...the dream he had tried so hard to keep alive, despite the overwhelming odds! But Hiram could no longer deny that his dream was turning into a nightmare. The toymaker now realized that he was quickly losing the battle, & unless Mother Fate managed to resolve the Flavershams' crisis in some miraculous chain of events, said battle was sure to end in defeat...for _all_ of them. Before he left the main room to make his way towards Olivia's room, Hiram couldn't help but frown to himself, as he glanced down at the white, rectangular cardboard sign that rested between the cupboard & the old furnace pipe. He'd hoped he would never have to take it out, but after over a month of inactivity, he'd begun to keep it on paw, in case he would ever be compelled to use it. The sign said in big red letters, "_Going Out Of Business_".

* * *

Moments later, in the Flaversham mouselings' room, Cousin Timmy had changed into his light-blue pajamas, &, now, he was crawling into bed beside Olivia, who was dressed in her fuschia nightgown & matching hair-bow. As she sat up in bed, the little Scotsmouse was holding another one of her many dolls—a smiling moppet mouse with blue button-eyes, yellow yarn-hair, & a pink gingham dress. Cradling the doll like a baby in her arms, Olivia said to it, "Don't worry, Miss Moppet...We're going to be OK."

"Yeah," Cousin Timmy muttered bitterly, "just as long as we've still got customers."

"I'm sure some customers will see us tomorrow, Miss Moppet," Olivia assured her doll, trying to hold onto her hope...even though her voice was cracking a little as she said this.

But Cousin Timmy, lost in his gloomy mood, continued to ramble on, not noticing what his words were doing to Olivia's already-fragile emotional state: "Well, that's what we've all been thinking whenever we've gotten up every morning for the last few weeks, & at the end of the day, guess what? No customers."

"It's just a little rough patch, Miss Moppet!" Olivia said, though her breaking voice & watering eyes were betraying her wavering confidence. "We'll get through it...just like we always do..." She sniffled, before continuing in an increasingly-tearful voice, "The Flavershams always make it...through the best of times..."—she broke down—"...& the worst of times..." Now beginning to lose all the hope she had, Olivia finally gave into despair, & started to cry. Cousin Timmy winced when he saw her doing so, then frowned guiltily, as he wrung his paws shamefully; he realized too late that he should have kept his mouth shut.

Soon, Hiram came into the room, & after going over to the bed to sit down beside the children, he saw his daughter crying. "Och, what's the matter, Olivia?" Hiram asked, frowning sympathetically.

Olivia immediately hugged Hiram, crying against her father, as she cuddled her face in his shirtfront to hide her tears. As her body shook with each sob, Olivia wept sorrowfully, "I don't know if I can live through this, Daddy...I just can't see how we're going to get through all these bad times..." She sniffled, then wiped her nose with the back of her paw, before hugging Hiram even more tightly, as she said in a quiet whisper, "I don't see any reason for me to hold onto my hope anymore..."

Hiram returned the hug, & patted Olivia's back, doing his best to comfort the disconsolate child. "There, there, Olivia," Hiram said, trying to instill faith in his daughter. "I _promise_ you & Timmy we'll all get out of this mess together. And I say these words with the _utmost_ sincerity...& confidence!"

"But _HOW_, Daddy?" Olivia asked, looking up at her father with an uncertain gaze, as she dried her tears. "_How_ will we make it through these bad times?"

"We'll think of _something_, I'm sure," Hiram replied, smiling optimistically at Olivia. "You'll see, honey. Soon, things will be better for _all_ of us. I just _know_ it."

Her earlier optimism & faith now restored to her, Olivia began to smile through the last of her tears. Hiram was right; the situation wasn't entirely hopeless, & there was still a chance of things getting better! She just had to keep her mind open to that possibility, & everything would turn out all right in the end. Unable to thank her father enough for how much his words had helped to bring her out of her earlier state of despair, Olivia hugged Hiram once again, brimming with hopeful joy. Hiram hugged his daughter back, & Cousin Timmy soon joined in the embrace. The Flavershams were now ready to take on any challenges or adversity that lay ahead, & they were determined to _never_ quit the battle; as long as there was even the slightest chance of winning, they could overcome any obstacles in their path, defeat any foes, & reach any star in their sight. And nothing—not even poverty—would bring the Flavershams down.

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: Abridged version of "Saturn", from Gustav Holst's "The Planets")_

Not too far away from Walnut Avenue, in the Marylebone district of London, the mouse street of Baker Street (known to us humans by the same name) was empty & quiet, except for the sound of Big Ben chiming 10:00. No pedestrians or vehicles traveled down the road, which was now shrouded in a light gray fog, only permeated by the bright yellow glow of street-lamps. In the home of one Sherlock Holmes, the humans had already gone to bed...but in the small quarters below at Lower 221B Baker Street, the occupants were anything _but_ sleepy.

In the antechamber that led from the front door to the living room of Basil Of Baker Street's house, two mice—both of middle age—were standing on the floor of the landing. The first mouse was of average height for his age, with a plump, portly figure; his body was covered with tan fur, & his bald, rounded head sported wide & curvy cheeks, along with a thick, bushy pale-golden moustache. A slightly-prominent brown nose jutted out from between his kindly brown eyes (topped with thick, bushy pale-golden eyebrows), & a small pair of curvy pink ears extended from either side of his head. His pink tail was long & slender, & his stout limbs ended in paws & feet of average size. He was dressed in a rather nice-looking outfit that seemed to suit his figure quite well; a buttonless lavender-orchid jacket was worn open over his other clothing, with a pair of slimming lavender trousers covering his lower half. Underneath the jacket, his upper half was covered by a fuschia sweater-vest & crisp white shirt-sleeves, with a blue silk bow-tie fastening the upturned wings of the latter garment's collar; a pair of neatly-polished black shoes sheltered his feet. The mouse (whose name was Dr. David Q. Dawson) paced the floor worriedly, his tail swishing about in the air, as he walked back & forth with his arms & paws clasped behind his back. No doubt, the former military mouse & army surgeon was feeling quite nervous.

The second mouse—a woman—was taller than Dr. Dawson, but she also had a plump, portly figure (although it was more of a well-built type). Like Dr. Dawson, she had tan fur (with a matching wave of neatly-combed fur-hair on the top of her head), wide & curvy cheekbones, a small pair of curvy pink ears, & stout arms & legs; unlike Dr. Dawson, however, her small nose was dark-pink in color, her eyes were blue, her black eyebrows were smooth & curved, & her paws & feet were of a small & delicate nature. Her body was mainly covered in an ankle-length dark-turquoise dress (which had puffy shoulders, long sleeves that tapered out as they reached down to her wrists, starched white cuffs, & a white collar with an elliptical golden cameo pinned between its triangular flaps), with pairs of light-blue petticoats & brown nylon stockings underneath. A light-blue apron was worn over the dress, & a small pair of glasses with elliptical lenses were perched upon her nose; her head was covered by a light-blue bonnet with fringed, frilly trimmings going all around the bottom edge. Her dainty feet were covered in a snugly-fitting pair of dull, black patent-leather boots. The mouse woman was a Scottish maid / mousekeeper / cook / landlady in the employ of Basil & Dr. Dawson, who both respectfully referred to her as Mrs. Judson. The hired servant fidgeted & fussed, as she toyed with the hem of her dress, looking quite worried; she was beginning to feel increasingly ill-at-ease, as she wondered about the whereabouts of a certain mouse detective. As she glanced at the time displayed on the chiming grandfather clock in the corner of the antechamber, Mrs. Judson muttered anxiously to herself, "Oh, my goodness, it's already 10:00! Where on Earth could Basil be at this ungodly hour?"

Any answer to that question was, unfortunately, beyond Dr. Dawson, who continued to pace the floor with quick, restless steps, as he responded to Mrs. Judson's fretful inquiry with one of his own: "It shouldn't take all day for a mouse—let alone a mouse as quick as Basil—to do a few simple errands, should it, Mrs. Judson?"

"I should say not, Dr. Dawson!" Mrs. Judson answered, as she turned away from the clock to face her portly employer, her expression & tone-of-voice now quite agitated (& understandably so). "And believe me, I should know how long it takes a mouse to 'do a few errands'. Even with all the errands _I_ have to do to keep this house ship-shape for you two, it usually doesn't take me more than 2 or 3 hours, if not sooner!"

At this point, Dr. Dawson stopped pacing the floor, & turned around to face Mrs. Judson with an uncertain gaze, not entirely sure what to do. "Um, perhaps, then, I would suggest that one of us should go look for him," the medical mouse finally said with some hesitancy.

"I agree with you, Dr. Dawson," Mrs. Judson replied resolutely, as she began walking off downstairs to enter the living room. "I'll go put on my coat, &..."

Suddenly, Dr. Dawson stopped Mrs. Judson in her tracks with an additional utterance from his lips: "On second thought, Mrs. Judson, never mind." When the mousekeeper looked at him in puzzlement, he added, "I think I hear Basil's footsteps now."

"And it's about time, too!" Mrs. Judson grumbled to herself, as she scuttled back up the stairs to the antechamber, where she joined Dr. Dawson at his side, & the two mice prepared to greet their long-awaited friend. It wasn't very long until the front door opened with a loud creak, revealing a tall, thin mouse standing in the threshold. His body was covered in tan fur (with light-tan markings going all across his muzzle & underbelly), & a wave of matching fur-hair adorned the top of his head. A prominent brown nose was juxtaposed between his startling green eyes (topped with a pair of smooth, curved black eyebrows), & big, curvy pink ears extended from either side of his head, with his slender limbs ending in large paws & feet. He was dressed in a rather elaborate ensemble, which started off with a simple set of white shirt-sleeves, a pair of ankle-length mesquite-brown trousers, a single-breasted brown waistcoat, & a blue silk necktie. Over the shirt & waistcoat, he wore a mesquite-brown trenchcoat that matched the trousers, & over all _this_, he wore a long-sleeved brown tunic with an invertness cape attached to it; a brown deerstalker cap adorned the top of his head, & a pair of black patent-leather shoes with ash-gray spats covered his feet. The mouse—none other than Basil Of Baker Street—had finally returned home to his fellow dwellers at Lower 221B...but Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson didn't seem to notice the haggard & upset expression on the Great Mouse Detective's face, as they both rushed over to greet him. "Oh, Mr. Basil," Mrs. Judson exclaimed happily, "glad to see you back home with us!"

Mrs. Judson & Dr. Dawson proceeded to help remove Basil's deerstalker hat & invertness cape from his furson...but only after a few seconds, did they finally see the worn, weary look that was plastered on their friend's countenance. Basil looked like he had been through Hades, but for what reason, the crimesolver's companions had yet to know. The only thing Basil said in reply was, "Thank you so very dearly, Dawson...Mrs. Judson." With slow, solemn steps, Basil walked away from the maid & medical mouse, then proceeded to make his way across the antechamber, before turning to trudge down the steps into the living room; not even bothering to change into his robe, he slumped down into his favorite red armchair, planting his feet on the floor (& ignoring the plush stool in front of him). [11] From their position behind the banister of the antechamber, Mrs. Judson & Dr. Dawson could see Basil casting a sad, half-lidded look to the ground, as he rested his head in the palms of his paws, supporting them with his elbows planted flat on his knees. The two older mice couldn't help but stare at their friend with sorrowful frowns & concerned, compassionate gazes, wondering what could be troubling Basil so much.

The Great Mouse Detective was absolutely miserable, & not even the cozy fire blazing in the hearth could cheer him up. How could _anything_ lift his spirits, after what he had seen this afternoon? In all his life, Basil had never _dreamed_ that he would ever witness anything so awful, so dreadful, as what he had seen at Lower 3314 Walnut Avenue...As he closed his eyes, & pictured the tragic scene in his mind, Basil couldn't help but let out a sad sigh at the unpleasant memory of it, sinking his head in despair. He felt as though the entire weight of the world was on his shoulders, & he didn't think there was _any_ way he could ease himself of his heavy burden...

Unbeknownst to Basil, Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson walked into the living room, going over to stand on either side of their companion. The two older mice were both smiling, & trying to act as though they didn't sense anything was wrong. "So, um...how did your errands go today, Basil?" Dr. Dawson asked in a friendly, cheerful manner.

"Ohh, they weren't too shabby, I suppose," Basil replied in a dead-pan tone...& not sounding very convincing to either Dr. Dawson _or_ Mrs. Judson. "And how was your day, may I ask?"

"Oh, well, I'd say my day was quite fine," Dr. Dawson answered, still smiling.

"Yes, same here, Mr. Basil," Mrs. Judson assented pleasantly, nodding her head in agreement.

"That's good to know," Basil replied in a flat monotone, still sporting that expression of heartfelt misery. Then came an awkward pause, & for the next few seconds, neither Basil, Mrs. Judson, or Dr. Dawson said anything. Finally, however, Dr. Dawson decided to break the silence, & with great delicacy, the portly physician asked Basil, "Err...you appear to be looking...rather _down_ today, Basil. Anything wrong?"

Basil let out another deep sigh, before shaking his head, as he answered, "Oh, it's all just related to fursonal trifles, Dawson. It's nothing to worry about, really." _Ordinarily, I'm a very honest mouse, but I hope you will forgive me for fudging the truth—just this once. I don't want you & Mrs. Judson to have to share my awful burden..._

But Mrs. Judson & Dr. Dawson weren't entirely sure that Basil was telling them the whole truth, & Mrs. Judson tried to coax Basil to reveal more than he was letting on. "Oh, no, Mr. Basil," the mousekeeper said with a bit of eagerness in her Scottish brogue, "we're interested in hearing what you have to say! Do tell us!"

Basil paused, not sure whether he should tell Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson about what he had seen that afternoon...but, finally, he decided that it probably wouldn't hurt all that much to talk about it—certainly not as much as it would hurt to do the opposite, for if he kept quiet about what he had witnessed, he'd never be able to do anything about it! Hesitantly, Basil said in response, "Well, if you must know...it has to do with the Flavershams."

"The Flavershams?" Dr. Dawson blurted out, surprised to hear that name coming out of Basil's mouth again, after all the long weeks that had passed since that fateful night in July...

"Quite right, Dawson," Basil replied, reaching into his trenchcoat pocket to pull out a Polaroid photograph, which he brought up for himself to see. "Quite right..." Then, Basil began to stare at the black-&-white picture with a wistful expression on his face, & Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson leaned in to take a closer look at it. Sure enough, there was little Olivia Flaversham & her father, along with several other rodents (no doubt, their relatives & friends in Mouse Scotland that they had told them about in the days before their departure from Mouse London). The picture had been taken at a carnival on the outskirts of Mouse Edinburgh—Basil could tell that from the Ferris wheel & other rides seen in the background—& judging by the smiles on everyone's faces, it certainly looked like the Flaversham family & their friends were having a good time...just living out a happy, carefree existence. That was the kind of life Basil wanted for his old chums...& as warm memories of the past began to flood his mind, Basil's face formed a fond smile. "Has it been that long, Dawson?" the detective asked his comrade, continuing to gaze down at the picture in his paw with that expression of affectionate reminiscence.

"Eh?" Dr. Dawson muttered in puzzlement, not quite understanding what Basil meant by that question.

"Since we first met the Flavershams," Basil added, hoping to clear up any confusion.

"Er, not that long, actually," Dr. Dawson replied. "I'd say a little over 2 months."

"I believe you're right, Dawson," Basil said, nodding his head, as the sad frown returned to his face. "That would be an accurate estimate."

"Yes..." Dr. Dawson muttered. "But what is it about the Flavershams that's troubling you so much?"

"Well, perhaps, it's best if I start at the beginning," Basil replied, & after taking a moment to clear his throat, he began relating his tale: "You see, Dawson, after going out to do my errands & stopping for a late lunch on the way home, I happened to pass by the Flavershams' toy shop while making my way down Walnut Avenue. The place appeared to be in pretty bad shape. I thought they had not yet come back from Scotland, but then, I heard a familiar voice squeaking my name. I turned around, & I saw little Olivia standing in the window, looking at me..."

A fretful sigh passed from Basil's lips, & he continued, becoming increasingly upset as he spoke: "You should have seen her, Dawson. I didn't look at Olivia for very long, but I noticed that she was pale & sickly-looking. Her clothes were torn & dirty. Her eyes were sunken & circled from lack of sleep...I could tell that she & her family had not only returned to Mouse London & reopened the toy shop, but were also under extreme duress, because..."—a pause for breath—"...from what my deduction powers told me, when I saw the condition of Olivia & the toy shop in general, it appears as though the Flavershams are going bankrupt. No one's coming to buy their toys anymore—I presume due to the recent rise in popularity of toys from the new super-companies. And it's not just the Flavershams who are suffering, but other small-business toymakers, as well."

Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson could hardly believe their ears! During all the time that had passed up until today, they had no idea that all of this was happening to their friends! "The Flavershams...are going bankrupt?" Dr. Dawson ejaculated, unable to hide his shock at hearing the news.

"Oh, the poor dears!" Mrs. Judson said sorrowfully, overcome by a wave of compassion for the suffering toymaker & his daughter. "That's terrible!"

"Yes, it is indeed terrible, Mrs. Judson...far too terrible for me to bear," Basil remarked, now looking even more melancholy than he had earlier. "That's why I started to run away when I heard Olivia calling my name...& why I didn't come back until much later than I originally intended." After another pause for breath, Basil lamented, "I want so much to help the Flavershams. But I have no children of my own that could serve as customers, & I don't really know anyone to whom I could recommend the Flavershams' services...yet, in their current crisis, customers are precisely the thing the Flavershams need most!" Basil let out another sigh, then shook his head worriedly, as he asked, "What am I to do? How can I _possibly_ assist the Flavershams in their dilemma?"

"Basil, don't worry!" Dr. Dawson said, trying to encourage his comrade. "You're a smart mouse! I'm sure you can figure it out!"

_(CUE SONG: "How Can I Turn Away?")_

But Basil couldn't contain his emotions any longer; so many thoughts were whirling through his mind, & he _had_ to get them off his chest, or else, he would go insane from all his stress & inner turmoil. "Not very long ago, my life was changed forevermore," Basil began. "I came upon the first mouse that I'd ever cared for..." Then, the detective started to sing about all the issues he was having with Olivia (& her fursonal troubles)...

_**That child has warmed my bitter soul  
**__**And softened my harsh heart!  
**__**Why did she have to leave & make us spend  
**__**Our lonely lives apart?**_

_**The lively little light is gone  
**__**Her frisky flame is snuffed  
**__**To wish in vain for her dear company  
**__**Is simply not enough!**_

_**Oh, how I miss that girl  
**__**And her happy, shining face!  
**__**How I wish that she would come  
**__**And fill this empty space!**_

_**But now her world is gone  
**__**As her blue skies turn to gray  
**__**And her hope is all but lost  
**__**How can I turn away?**_

Dr. Dawson quickly realized how much Basil's experiences with Olivia Flaversham had changed him, altering his fursonality for the better, by helping him become a more sensitive & caring rodent (among other things). He realized how much Basil missed Olivia's company—indeed, the changes in his attitude towards her had become all-too-apparent by now—& how lonely & miserable he felt without her. He also realized how desperately Basil wanted to help the Flavershams, & he assured him that he could do so...

_**You mustn't ever give up hope,  
**__**For all is not in vain!  
**__**There is a way to dry her tears away  
**__**And rid her of her pain!**_

_**It only takes a spark of hope,  
**__**Just one flame of belief,  
**__**For you to help the dear old Flavershams  
**__**And end their days of grief**_

_**Don't give into despair!  
**__**There is something you can do  
**__**To sweep away the clouds  
**__**And make the sun shine through**_

_**Though your mind is plagued with doubt,  
**__**Place your trust in what I say  
**__**You can surely save the girl!  
**__**You can never turn away**_

Despite Dr. Dawson's attempts to comfort & console Basil, the detective was in despair over how he should handle the situation, & he made no attempt to hide this...

_**But, Dawson, don't you understand  
**__**That she's facing bankruptcy?  
**__**With each moment, she comes closer  
**__**To the brink of poverty!**_

_**I've no children of my own  
**__**To support my dear old friends  
**__**Yet I yearn to ease their suffering  
**__**And make their troubles end!**_

_**How can I turn away  
**__**From a family in need?  
**__**I vowed I would not forget the girl,  
**__**And I shall keep that creed!**_

_**But how can I help them out?  
**__**Just what choices should I make?  
**__**How am I to bring them aid?  
**__**Just what chances should I take?**_

_**What's the right thing I can do?  
**__**Should I let her stay with me?  
**__**Or should I ignore the child  
**__**And let her die in poverty?**_

_(CUE MUSIC: Orchestral version of "The Last Spring", by Edvard Grieg)_

"Well, I certainly wouldn't recommend the latter choice," Dr. Dawson replied. "Perhaps, under the circumstances, it would be a good idea for us to allow the Flavershams to take lodgings with us at our home."

Almost immediately, the lachrymose frown left Basil's face, & a bright, broad smile formed in its place. "Then that's precisely what we shall do, Dawson!" Basil exclaimed, his tone-of-voice now filled with the same newfound energy & optimism that radiated from his features. After getting up out of his chair, Basil began walking away from Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson, putting on his invertness cape & deerstalker cap as he said, "The Flavershams are dear friends to us. If they're going to make it through their difficult situation, they're going to need a _lot_ of help. And I know _just_ how to give it to them!"

Once he had adjusted his cap (now resting upon his head), Basil turned to make his way towards the staircase leading up to the second floor of his house, beckoning for Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson to follow him into his fursonal study room. The 2 older mice both promptly scurried after Basil, who proceeded to squeeze through a narrow door, which had been carved into the black pipe in the northeast corner of the living room. Inside the pipe, previous occupants had installed a spiral staircase that led all the way up to the top, where a sliding trapdoor opened up to allow entry into the second-floor hallway. [12] Upon squeezing through the pipe door, Basil, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson all made their way up the stairs to the trapdoor, & after opening it up, they climbed out into the second-story corridor, before walking into Basil's study room (which was the first room on the east side of the hallway).

As soon as the 3 mice had all reached their destination, Basil went back to shut the door, before making his way to the large writing desk that stood against the south wall of the room. Upon taking his seat in the lavender easy-chair that rested in front of the desk, Basil reached a paw towards one of the little bureaus of drawers & cubby-holes that lay upon the table surface. After rooting around in one particular drawer, he pulled out a piece of blank paper, then laid it down in front of him, before grabbing a fountain pen from a small jar, & beginning to write upon the aforementioned sheet of paper. As Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson watched from their standing positions behind Basil, their friend busily engaged in writing what turned out to be a letter; when he was done with this task, he carefully folded up said letter, before placing it in an envelope, & licking the seal on the back to close it. Then, after writing the Flavershams' address on the front of the envelope, Basil placed a postage stamp in the upper-right-hand corner of it, before smiling in satisfaction as he placed the finished letter on his desk. "There!" Basil said pleasantly. "Phase One of 'Operation: Flavershams' is officially complete!" Then, the detective turned to face Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes & an eager smile, as he added, "Now, on to Phase Two!"

"Which would be...?" Dr. Dawson asked quizzically.

"The answer to that is quite elementary, my dear Dawson," Basil replied. "Take a few extra weeks to prepare the house for their arrival."

"Oh, that shouldn't be too difficult," Mrs. Judson remarked optimistically. "Aside from the study room, your room, my room, & Basil's room, all the other rooms on the second & third floors are empty, so we can convert them into living spaces for the Flavershams, & any relatives they might want to bring along with them..." [13]

"But in addition to that," Dr. Dawson added, "I think we should also make the living room look, umm...a little bit _nicer_, you know? Now that you've moved all your scientific equipment & other things into the study room, the sitting area's awfully bare, & I feel that it could use a lot more furniture & decorations...maybe even one of those nice televisions they've been making lately..."

"And while you're on the subject of remodeling the first floor, Dr. Dawson," said Mrs. Judson, "I think we also need to redo the wallpaper. It's gotten rather pale & dull over the years...Oh, & we ought to make a doorway leading into the dining room from the living room, so others won't have to go through the kitchen to get to it. [14] And we need to make a more accessible stairway to the second floor—it's such a pain in the tail to have to squeeze through that narrow door in the pipe, let alone to have to climb all those stairs, _&_ open that second door at the top that goes into the second-floor hallway...Ah, & I just got another idea, too—we should buy a van!"

"Don't worry, Mrs. Judson," Basil told the mousekeeper, trying to hold back a chuckle, as he playfully waved his paw at her. "Everything will be taken care of in due course. I think that October 24..."—he picked up his pen, & marked the appropriate date on his calendar that hung upon the wall above his desk—"...will be a suitable deadline for us to have everything ready for the Flavershams & their relatives."

"Good idea, Basil! We can start after breakfast tomorrow," Dr. Dawson suggested. "I'll call the carpenters, the carpet-layers, the painters, the plumbers, the woodworkers, the wallpaper mice, & the interior decorators!"

"And I'll pay a visit to Abigail's Antiques Store, Ferb's Furniture Emporium, & Joe Tailor's Business on Walnut Avenue," said Mrs. Judson. "If I have enough time, I'll also stop at Veronica's Electronica Store on the way home, & I'll continue to visit various stores throughout the next month. I want to make sure that we're not missing _anything_ during our period of preparation!"

"It's settled, then!" Basil declared, as he rose out of his seat, & went over to open the door, so he could make his exit. "We'll get up for breakfast & morning routines at 7:00 AM, & Phase Two of 'Operation: Flavershams' will begin an hour later, at 8:00 _sharp!_"

"All right, Basil!" Dr. Dawson said, as he & Mrs. Judson followed the detective out of the study room. "It's a deal!"

After bidding each other "goodnight", Basil, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson retreated into their respective bedrooms to retire for the evening. After changing into his pajamas & robe, & setting his alarm clock for 7:00 AM, Basil crawled into his canopy bed, & curled up under the covers, resting his head on the soft pillow, as thoughts of the days ahead flooded his mind. It was going to be a busy 4 weeks, that was for certain...but Basil looked forward to every moment of it! [15]

* * *

_**Friday, October 23, 1897**_

Dense mist covered the East End of London. The infamous "bad side" of England's great city was nearly deserted at this hour of the evening, save for the strumpets & street gangs that lurked the lanes, looking for people (or rodents) to serve & stalk. But the hookers & the hoodlums weren't the only ones that were up this late at night. Not too far away from the docks, in the depths of a dark, dank sewer lair, the sounds of ripping fabric, breaking glass, shuffling papers, & various other noises could be heard echoing throughout the vast halls...

Inside one particular barrel-building, in a lavishly-decorated throne room, a lonely figure was standing in the middle of the chamber. The figure—a handsome-looking rat at the age of 17—was dressed in kingly purple robes from head to toe, with a rainbow of gleaming medals & ribbons adorning the lapels of his outfit, golden epaulets placed on top of his broad shoulders, a long fuschia cape (decorated with ermine-style trimmings & golden tassel-fringes) flowing down the length of his back, a purple-&-golden crown covering his neatly-combed black hair, & a long sword & scabbard dangling from the "left" side of his glimmering golden belt (which had a buckle that was decorated with a large "R", & flanked by two large blue-topaz gems). Underneath his royal attire, he wore a slimming pair of black trousers (held up by two suspenders), a pinstriped white shirt with an upturned collar, & a silk cravat decorated with large lavender & melon-orange stripes; white silk gloves covered his delicate paws with long fingers, while his not-so-delicate feet mysteriously managed to fit into a pair of super-tiny black boots. [16]

Though much of his body was concealed by his clothing, the figure was covered in grayish-brown fur, & a gray five-o'clock shadow adorned his chin & muzzle. A prominent dark-pink nose jutted out from his face, & his theatrical-looking black eyebrows furrowed in fury over his golden eyes, which blazed with such rage & anger as he'd never felt before in his entire life...The figure did have a full name, but he preferred to be called only by the first part of his infamous moniker: Ratigan. [17]

_But wait a minute,_ you're probably wondering, _didn't Ratigan die in the fight on Big Ben?_ Well, the answer may come as a surprise to you, but rest assured that there is a perfectly logical explanation for it...

You see, dear readers, Ratigan did _NOT_ perish in the fall from London's great clock. As luck would have it, two of his higher-order bat-thugs, Eunice Karlin & Shellington Batly, were out on patrol that evening, & started to pass by Big Ben...just as their boss was falling from the hour hand. Eunice & Shellington managed to catch Ratigan (preventing him from falling to his death), & transported him to safety on the riverbank, where he (& Fidget) waited until Eunice & Shellington found the other thugs (who had escaped from the palace grounds, along with Felicia), told them what happened, & led them over to Ratigan & Fidget, who were then escorted back to the sewer lair. After he & Fidget had taken a few weeks to recover from their ordeals (both physical & emotional), Ratigan unexpectedly announced that he was permanently relieving his thugs of their duties, & banished them all from the hideout. [18]

Where the minions went or what they were doing now, Ratigan didn't know...&, quite frankly, he didn't _care_. As far as Ratigan was concerned, his former lackeys (aside from Fidget & a few certain others of a not-so-malicious nature) could rot in Hades! He had no desire to ever see them again, or associate with their kind. And he also had no desire to look back on those dark days in his life, that long period of 8 years where he & his minions brought fear & terror to Mouse London...the part of Ratigan's life that he had begun to hate most.

A tempest of all sorts of emotions was raging furiously inside Ratigan—anger, pain, frustration, agony, anguish, sorrow, & so on—& he simply _couldn't_ contain said emotions. Whatever Ratigan was feeling, he let it out in screams, shouts, & minced oaths, as he beat the walls, stomped the floor, smashed his mirrors, tore up old papers & photos, toppled objects over, threw various items around, & did whatever he could to destroy or damage the things that reminded him of his past...the past that he was trying so hard to forget.

"_Gosh-darn this...friggin', freakin', frackin', no-good...JUNK! Doggone, bloody, blasted...HOOHAH & HULLABALOO!_" While Ratigan was ranting & raving in all his blind fury, he did not notice the _clip-clop, thud_, _clip-clop, thud_ sound that echoed throughout the barrel-throne room as a peg-legged bat walked through the doorway. The bat was covered in gray fur, with tall reddish-pink ears (the "right" one had a notch in it), average-sized wings with pink webbing (the "left" one was broken), & circular red markings surrounding his big yellow eyes. The short, scrawny little fellow was dressed in a sleeveless blue-violet sweater, a form-fitting pair of black trousers, a purple-&-lavender-striped scarf with fringed edges, a floppy dark-gray shoe that covered his only foot, & a black English cap on top of his head.

The bat was none other than Fidget, one of Ratigan's former thugs...& the only minion who had been allowed to stay with Ratigan at the hideout when all the others were fired. Although you probably could have guessed this earlier, Fidget also survived his own fall into the Thames River; after coming back up to the surface of the stream, he'd found a floating piece of driftwood, & used it to swim over to the Thames' west bank, where he soon met up with Ratigan after he had been left there by Eunice & Shellington Batly. Even though Fidget couldn't help but feel angry at Ratigan for throwing him out of his dirigible (& leaving him to nearly drown), his sense of loyalty to his boss proved to be far more powerful, for Ratigan had been one of the few rodents to show some sort of kindness & generosity to Fidget in his 15 years of life. He had never once been mean to Fidget because of his species, or his appearance, or his handicaps; he had been the first to offer him decent food, clothing, & shelter when he was wandering the streets, making a meager living as a hit-bat for hire.

Even if he did not always treat Fidget in a kindly manner, Ratigan had still done so much for the young bat, & because of this, Fidget honestly felt that he _couldn't_ turn his back on his employer—otherwise, aside from a few old friends he had from his days working in a sweatshop factory, he had no one to turn to. Without Fidget, Ratigan would probably have been nothing, & without Ratigan, Fidget _was_ nothing. Thus, he'd stayed at the rat's side in the two months that had passed since their greatest defeat by Basil Of Baker Street, keeping him company on the riverbank while they waited for the other thugs to come take them home, trying to comfort him & cheer him up while they recovered from their injuries, promising to stick with him through thick & thin, no matter what...

Fidget was suddenly brought out of his thoughtful reverie, however, when he saw Ratigan grab a chair, & throw it in his direction with a yell of "_Argh...Fudge this cheese-sucking tripe!_" Thankfully, the chair hit the wall instead, & once he took a moment to recover from his shock after barely missing a nasty collision with the piece of furniture, Fidget continued to watch Ratigan rant & rave for a few minutes longer, trashing & smashing & crashing & bashing things all the while.

Then, when a moment or two of silence had passed, Fidget finally spoke up. "Uhhh...boss...are you feelin' OK?" he asked timidly.

"Fidget," Ratigan replied in an exasperated tone, "I am not your boss anymore. For the last time, call me Ratigan!"

"OK, _Ratigan_," Fidget said, making sure to stress the name, before asking again, "Like I said, are you feelin' OK?"

Having now calmed down a bit, Ratigan went over to his old throne in the back of the room, & slumped down in it as he answered (with some irritation still heard in his voice), "As a matter of fact, Fidget..._no_, I am _NOT__!_"

Taking a few steps further into the throne room, Fidget asked in concern, "Well, what's da matter, boss..."—he corrected himself—"...uh, Ratigan?"

Closing his eyes wearily, Ratigan placed his head in his gloved paws, & began to massage his forehead, as he replied, "As you know, Fidget, I have been struggling to deal with fursonal issues lately...mainly pertaining to my inner conflict on certain moral standards."

Even though he didn't always do so well with big words, Fidget knew exactly what Ratigan was talking about. "Oh, I see," he remarked. "You're still thinking about reforming?"

"I _am_ currently considering the option, now that you mention it," Ratigan responded.

"You mean it?" Fidget asked, to which Ratigan replied with a nod of his head, "Yes...Yes, I do, Fidget."

_(CUE SONG: "Is It Worth It?")_

"Wow..." Fidget marveled, unable to stop a big smile of astonishment from appearing on his face. "Two months since Basil Of Baker Street kicked your butt, & already, you wanna go ahead & reform?"

"Hmm, yeah," Ratigan said, "that's about the size of it..."

"Uh, OK," Fidget replied. At this point, he was about to let the matter drop, but then a question struck him: "But tell me again, Ratigan...Why exactly is it that you wanna reform?"

"Fidget, you should already know the answer that question by now," Ratigan answered, as he got up out of his throne, & went over to his harp in the corner of the barrel-throne room. After sitting down in the little plush seat beside the aforementioned harp, Ratigan placed his fingers upon the strings, & strummed a gentle, but sad, melody upon them, as he began to sing...

_**For many dark & gruesome years,  
**__**I was the object of others' fears  
**__**I brought endless pain & agony  
**__**To all of my poor peers**_

_**I've been feeling guilt & shame  
**__**For all that I've been blamed...  
**__**How I want to leave my past behind  
**__**And clear my poisoned name!**_

_**I'm so sick & tired of this vice  
**__**That I once thought to be so nice!  
**__**I'm heck-bent on changing my cruel ways  
**__**And warming my heart of ice!**_

_**There's no need to live a life of wrong,  
**__**And that's why I sing to you this song!  
**__**Surely, there's a place of good & just  
**__**Where I truly can belong!**_

"But why are you worrying so much about it?" Fidget questioned.

"You don't understand, Fidget!" Ratigan cried, shaking his head furiously as his expression became tormented. "You just don't understand!" At this point, he got off of his harp seat, & began pacing the room, as his song became more & more agitated...

_**Tell me, what is there for me to gain  
**__**When I murder, rob, & feign?  
**__**All these atrocious acts I've done,  
**__**Are they worth the scorn & pain?**_

_**Drowning orphans & widows,  
**__**Pilfering jewelry & dough,  
**__**Heartlessly harming poor rodents like us,  
**__**Is it all worth it? NO!**_

Upon saying that, Ratigan sank dramatically to his knees, closing his eyes & tilting his head up towards the heavens, as he let his arms fall down at his sides with a grand flourish.

_(CUE MUSIC: "Dance Of The Sylphs", from Hector Berlioz's "Harold In Italy")_

After a moment or two, Fidget hobbled closer to Ratigan, who then opened his eyes, & looked down to face the bat as he said, "And that, you see, is why I want to reform."

Fidget nodded his head in understanding...before raising a webbed hand in the air, as he piped up, "Say, Ratigan...can I reform, too?"

The look on Ratigan's face soon changed, & an amused smirk adorned his countenance. "If you really want to, Fidget," he replied, "I suppose there's no reason why you can't."

"Okie-doke, then!" Fidget said, as he burst into a wide grin. Hopping into Ratigan's arms (& making him "oof" a little), Fidget wrapped his wings in a friendly manner around the rat's neck, smiling happily as he added, "Count me in, bestest buddy!"

Ratigan couldn't help but crack a cheerful, toothy smile in return. "Of course, Fidget...Certainly," he said amiably, before gently lifting Fidget's cap up from his head, & tousling his fur-hair affectionately. In the weeks that had passed since the day of the Diamond Jubilee, Ratigan & Fidget had come to share a brotherly bond with one another, both deciding to look out for each other, help each other, aid & abet each other, support each other, & care for each other, no matter what events or circumstances came up in life. Together, they were bound & determined to travel down the straight & narrow path leading to a better, much more fulfilling existence...for _both_ of them. And together, they were going to turn over new leaves, change their wicked ways, & change for the better, no matter what society thought of them!

"And our first step on the road to redemption," Ratigan said jovially, "is to make peace with those who we once regarded as enemies! One can't truly reform unless he...or she...learns how to forgive & forget!"

"But who should we start with?" inquired Fidget.

"Why, none other than Basil Of Baker Street!" Ratigan replied. "And, perhaps, we should also make peace with that doctor mouse, & Basil's mousekeeper..."

"What about da Flavershams?" asked Fidget.

"Yes, yes," Ratigan said with a nod of his head, "we can make peace with them, as well! In fact, I think we very well _should_...As soon as we've talked to Basil & the others, we'll pay a visit to Mr. Flaversham & his daughter."

"Good idea, Ratigan!" Fidget commented, as the smile on his face widened. "We can go see dem all tomorrow."

"Like killing—er, _bonking_—two birds with one stone, eh?" Ratigan quipped with a playful chuckle. Fidget couldn't help but laugh a little, as well, before he looked up at Ratigan with an alert gaze & perked ears, listening attentively to his boss-turned-friend as he instructed, "Well, let's go see if we can gather up a few peace offerings for our soon-to-be-comrades, & we'll retire for the evening. Tomorrow, we'll get up at 7:00, then have breakfast, tend to our usual morning routines, pack up all our things, & move out of this wretched place for good! And, of course, we'll go to Baker Street & Walnut Avenue to make peace with certain rodents. Maybe, Basil & his friends will be willing to set aside an extra room for us at their house..."

"All righty, den!" Fidget said, nodding his head in affirmation. "We got tomorrow all planned out!"

"Let's hope our endeavors will not be in vain," Ratigan said, shaking Fidget's hand. With that, the two got up, then walked out of the barrel-throne room together, before heading to the room they would be sharing in the building next door. Tomorrow was certainly going to be a busy day for Ratigan & Fidget...but they looked forward to every second of it!

* * *

_**Saturday, October 24, 1897**_

A new day was dawning over Mouse London, & the sun was just beginning to rise over Baker Street. Gradually, as it ascended further & further into the sky, it filled the street & the houses upon it with its warm, cheerful, golden glow. Birds started to chirp & sing, greeting the new morning with merry melodies & cheery whistling, as the rodent & human occupants of every building stirred from their sleep, & began to prepare for the busy day that awaited them. The same could definitely be said for the residents of the newly-refurbished & remodeled house at Lower 221B Baker Street.

The living room of Basil's house had been cleaned up considerably, & one could hardly tell it had once been messy & cluttered. There was still the fireplace with the golden grate (along with the same knick-knacks adorning the mantle), & there was still the blue rug & the small table with the lamp on it. But Basil's red chair & Dr. Dawson's green chair had been joined by a large purple couch, a fuschia chaise lounge, a pink ottoman, a beige recliner, a navy-blue armchair, & an azure loveseat, all of which were positioned in different spots of the living room. A lush dark-green carpet spread across the wooden floor. On the walls were various paintings of flowers, landscapes, & other things. A humble, but nice-looking, light fixture dangled from the ceiling. A big-screen TV lay across the room on the west wall, opposite of the fireplace, rug, & two chairs. On the same wall where the TV was, a telephone & answering machine rested on top of a small dresser-table in the southwest corner of the room, next to a large oval mirror. The door that led to the kitchen was on the north wall, near the northwest corner of the living room. On the same wall, just to the right of the new dining-room door, was the equally-new staircase that now led to the second story of the house; the staircase (which had a wooden banister, as well as a door on the side that led to the basement level below) took up all of the northeast area of the living room, as it was in the place where the large pipe used to be. And funny we should mention the stairway at this point, for Basil Of Baker Street (dressed in his robe, sleep-trousers, necktie, shirt, & slippers) was now briskly dashing down the steps to enter the living room, while Dr. Dawson (dressed in lavender pinstripe pajamas & a matching nightcap) & Mrs. Judson (dressed in her maid's attire) followed him.

As he descended the stairwell, clutching the Flavershams' letter in his paws, Basil exclaimed happily, "Come along, Mrs. Judson! Dawson! The mailmouse is due to arrive in just a few seconds! Today's the day that the Flavershams begin life anew!" Basil, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson scurried through the living room, & up the small staircase leading to the antechamber...which was not significantly different from how it appeared earlier, although it had still gone through some changes during the "extreme makeover" of Basil's house. The floor of the antechamber (& the staircase) was now draped in the same dark-green carpet as the living room, & the grandfather clock (but not the bureau of dresser-drawers) was still placed in the corner of the aforementioned antechamber. Beautiful red curtains with golden draw-tassels draped down the sides of the great circle window, & at the part of the oaken banister between the door & steps to the living room. The bench-like seat below the glass window had been reupholstered, & it was now covered in forest-green velvet (but still had the little books on the side of it). The walls of the antechamber (as well as the living room) were decorated with chartreuse-&-ruby-striped wallpaper. And, of course, there was the front door, which Basil, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson approached to make their way outside.

In the front of Basil's house, the hollow of overhanging bricks that led to the entrance had been transformed to a giant carport / porch. The floor was made of wooden planks, & an automobile ramp (made of the same material as the floor of the porch) led up to the carport from the driveway, as a small set of three cement stairs stood beside it. A stained-glass window in various shades of green (with a red glass "B" in the center) arched over the oaken door. A small oil lamp in a sconce was positioned by said door, & an oval-shaped bronze plate (which said "221 ½" in gold writing) rested below it. [19] At the foot of the door (which had a golden mail slot & doorknob on it), a dark-turquoise welcome mat was laid out on the ground. Basil, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson quickly opened the front door, & rushed out onto the porch, but Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson stayed behind to watch Basil, as he dashed down the front steps, through the front yard, & onto the pavement.

A mailmouse in blue was walking down the sidewalk of Baker Street, making his morning rounds of delivering mail, as he whistled a merry tune. Suddenly, he opened his eyes, surprised to see a certain mouse detective approaching him. Basil swiftly darted in front of the mailmouse's way to stop him, before holding up a skinny paw, & waving the Flavershams' letter back & forth in the air, as he said, "Excuse me, Mr. Mailmouse. I need you to deliver something for me." Basil handed the Flavershams' letter to the mailmouse, who took the envelope into his paws, & stared at it thoughtfully. "Take this to Hiram Flaversham," Basil instructed. "He lives on Lower 3314 Walnut Avenue, at Flaversham's Toy Shop. [20] Give the letter to him post-haste, & next time you're there, do drop your children by to purchase some toys, would you?"

"Of course, Mr. Basil!" the mailmouse replied cheerfully, nodding his head in affirmation. After taking the letter, & tipping his hat to Basil, the courier continued walking down the pavement, starting off on his journey to Walnut Avenue.

As he watched the mailmouse depart, Basil waved "goodbye" to him, & shouted happily, "God bless you, good sir! And give my regards to Olivia Flaversham!" Then, sporting a broad smile, Basil turned to walk back through the front yard, onto the porch, & into the house, with Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson following him inside.

_(CUE SONG: "Final Medley")_

After watching the 2 older mice leave for their upstairs quarters, Basil stayed inside the antechamber, placing his paw on the front door, & pushing back to close it. Then, Basil leaned against the shut _porte_, closing his eyes in pleasant reverie, as the smile on his face widened. Soon, the mailmouse would deliver the detective's letter to the Flavershams, & if Basil's friends accepted his offer—which he had no doubt they would—all their fursonal troubles would be over! Basil couldn't help but beam brightly at the prospects of a better future for the Flavershams, as thoughts of hope & sunny optimism filled his head...

_**Oh, darling little girl,  
**__**Joy awaits you on this day!  
**__**You'll no longer have to feel  
**__**Any sadness or dismay**_

_**Your rainbow will shine through  
**__**All the clouds that were once gray  
**__**Sunshine will fill your life  
**__**And never go away**_

Meanwhile, in a certain sewer lair on the other side of town, Ratigan & Fidget were making their final preparations for their journey to Baker Street (& Walnut Avenue). The two rodents, already dressed for the day, were packing their possessions into parcels & suitcases, which they intended to carry with them throughout the duration of their trip. The gift-wrapped baskets containing the presents for Basil, Dr. Dawson, Mrs. Judson, & the Flavershams rested on the mattress of Ratigan's bed, patiently waiting to be given to their recipients. And, of course, Ratigan & Fidget were eagerly looking forward to making peace with the fursons they had wronged, in addition to beginning their new lives as reformed, law-abiding members of rodent society! Ratigan couldn't help but smile, as he thought of the wonderful days that lay ahead for him...& his fellow Mouse Londoners...

_**There is much I'm sure that I will gain  
**__**When I end my cruel & callous reign  
**__**All the kindly deeds I hope to do,  
**__**They're all worth my stress & strain**_

Meanwhile, at a certain building on Walnut Avenue, Olivia Flaversham (dressed in her fuschia nightgown & matching hair-bow) had just woken up from the previous night's slumber, & she was now standing on the floor of her bedroom, having stretched her arms after rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Upon noticing that her fursonal chambers were still filled with shadows, Olivia quickly went back over to her bed, crawled onto the mattress (while being careful not to wake the still-sleeping Cousin Timmy), & extended her paws toward either side of her window, opening the curtains to let in the warm, cheery sunlight. Almost instantly, the sun's golden rays illuminated the interior of the room, providing a boost to Olivia's spirits, as a happy smile formed on the mouseling's face, which began to radiate with an optimistic glow. Today was the day, Olivia felt, that things would take a turn for the better; she had a feeling that something good was coming her way...

_**Oh, what a bright, beautiful day!  
**__**My trials will end,  
**__**And things will be all right again**_

_**Soon the dark clouds will drift away  
**__**Surely, a miracle  
**__**Is bound to happen today!**_

Then, Basil, Ratigan, & Olivia began to express their thoughts aloud; even though they were many mouse miles apart, their very voices seemed to resonate together in an unchained melody, as they sang...

_**Sweet little child, in just a while  
**__**(Citizens dear, have no more fear)  
**__**[Now there's no need for my heart to bleed]**_

_**Your trials will end & your world will be bright again  
**__**(Darkness will leave & your streets will be safe again)  
**__**[All of my sorrow, I'm sure I won't feel again]**_

_**Suffer no more, child I adore  
**__**(Let no more strife conquer your life)  
**__**[I'll no longer dwell in a desolate hell]**_

_**You'll have your miracle, things will be better for you  
**__**(Oh, what a miracle that I changed my life for you)  
**__**[This is the miracle God has provided for me!]**_

Fortune could be such a fickle mistress, with her capricious habit of influencing circumstances or events to suit her whims & wishes. A butterfly would flap its wings on a sunny day in China, & rain would end up falling in New York that same afternoon. [21] A furson who was late to work, might have an opportunity to help a stranger in need. One might stop for lunch at a restaurant, & end up chatting with a favorite celebrity! [22] But no one in all the mouse world could ever have imagined the marvelous & magnificent events that would result from these twists & turns of fate...

* * *

[1] The prophecy is also a featured theme / plot device in the film version of GMD 2. (BTW, my script for the movie version of the sequel will soon be finished. If you're interested in looking at it, feel free to ask me for a copy, & I'll be happy to E-mail it to you!)

[2] Those of you who are familiar with a certain director's films will notice that I have taken a Kubrickian route with selecting pieces of classical music as score for the fanfiction & film versions of GMD 2. My inspiration for that largely came from the soundtracks for "_A Clockwork Orange_", "_The Shining_", & "_Barry Lyndon_", along with a bit of "_2001: A Space Odyssey_" & "_Eyes Wide Shut_".

[3] Sophie will make fursonal appearances in Chapters 7 & 9 of the fanfic.

[4] In the late 1880's & early 1890's, Queen Mousetoria passed a series of child-labor laws & other mandates meant to induce industrial reform in the United Mouse Kingdom. (The child-labor laws are also referenced to by Fidget in the updated version of his autobiography, "_What I Am_".)

[5] The only toymaker that Hiram bears any ill will toward is Martin Loveless. He has yet to appear in any of my GMD fanfics, but when he does, you'll understand why Hiram dislikes him so much.

[6] And the Mechanical Monarch is living proof of that!

[7] The name of that toy company is supposed to be a Victorian joke...&, if you are familiar with (our version of) the history of that era, it's a satirical joke, at that.

[8] After receiving that visit from Hiram on Tuesday evening, Sophie called Mr. Altoid, & told him of the crises that her neighbor & his family were facing, as a result of the failure of their toy shop. Being the town benefactor (& a very generous furson at heart), Mr. Altoid was all-too-willing to help the Flavershams out in their time of need.

[9] I will admit, I was thinking of "_Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory_" when I wrote that line.

[10] Guess Hiram's going to have to get used to all those new slang terms, too... XD

[11] A bit of an homage to a certain scene in the original movie... ;-)

[12] That was the best explanation I could come up with for how one got to the second floor in Basil's old house, but if anyone can come up with a better explanation, feel free to enlighten me.

[13] Finally, I have an answer as to why Ratigan & Fidget have their own room at Basil's house! ^_^

[14] That was the best explanation I could come up with for how one got to the dining room in Basil's old house, but if anyone can come up with a better explanation, feel free to enlighten me.

[15] In addition to my never-ending list of personal projects (fandom-related & otherwise), I now have plans for several GMD 2 tie-in fanfics...one of which deals with the following scenario: "_In the 4 weeks it takes to remodel their house, Basil, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson go through a variety of experiences (all ranging from comical to frustrating) as they work on Phase 2 of their plan to help the Flavershams._" Keep an eye out for "_Extreme Makeover...Mouse Edition_", coming soon from The Mouse Avenger. ;-)

[16] To this day, I _still_ don't understand how Ratigan manages to fit his feet into those tiny boots! It's a complete mystery to me...

[17] For those of you with curious minds, fear not! Ratigan's full name shall be revealed to you in future chapters (along with the rest of the Baker Street Family's given names).

[18] Hopefully, no one will find any flaws or problems with this explanation of Ratigan's survival.

[19] Well, technically, the bronze plate is the only part of Basil's house that hasn't been completely fixed yet; since the Baker Street Family will occupy _all_ of Basil's house, the address is now referred to as 'Lower 221B Baker Street', not 'Lower 221 ½ Baker Street' (although the old address _should_ have been 'Lower 221 ⅓ Baker Street', since the building has 3 floors, not counting the attic & basement levels).

Incidentally, different authors of GMD fanfics have different ways of writing street addresses for rodents. To clear up any confusion, I will explain the methods used in my stories.

The mouse world has two different ways of listing addresses: with a street number & fraction, or with the word "Lower" placed before the street number (or a combination of the two). The fractions are only used to indicate floor levels of multistory mouse buildings that are not single houses or businesses. For example, since the Baker Street Family now occupies all of Basil's house, the address has been changed to Lower 221B Baker Street (as previously stated); Flaversham's Toy Shop is at Lower 3314 Walnut Avenue, & Inspector Tobias Clouseau & his friend Cato Zhong dwell together at Lower 319 Cheese Boulevard...

...but a particular tenant of the Hound Dog Flats might lodge in Room #17 at 455 ⅔ Plum Boulevard, while another tenant might lodge in a room with the same number on the first floor of the apartment building, or Room #17 at 455 ⅓ Plum Boulevard (& his next-door neighbors would occupy Rooms #16 & #18 at 455 ⅓ Plum Boulevard). It's the same idea with multilevel office buildings, businesses, condos, hotels, hospitals, shopping malls, & whatnot. The "1" in a fraction is always used to refer to the ground floor, & the top numbers of the subsequent fractions would refer to each of the upper floors (e.g., 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, & 6/6); the number indicating the last floor is _always_ written out as a fraction, _never_ simplified to a whole number.

[20] The word "Lower" is used in addresses of mouse buildings that are built into humans' structures, like the Baker Street Family's house, Flaversham's Toy Shop, Sophie's Flower Shop, Mitsubishi's Kite Shop, or Larry's Libretto Company (to name a few examples). It is not used in the addresses of "stand-alone" buildings, like the London Mouse Mini-Mall, St. Mary's Youth Hostel, the "Taste Of America" restaurant, the London Flight Mouseum & Arena, Piccadilly Mouse Circus, the Hound Dog Flats, or the Rat Trap Family Restaurant (T.N.A.F.E.).

[21] I will admit, I was thinking of Ian Malcolm's line in the first "_Jurassic Park_" film when I wrote that.

[22] A similar thing happened to me, only the setting was the hallway of a hotel...& there's a rather neat story behind it, actually. In fact, I'm writing about my celebrity encounters & other experiences at Texas Frightmare Weekend 2008 in a personal memoir, "_The Time Of My Life_", which will be published & posted on a particular part of my GMD website. Keep an eye out for it! ;-)


	5. Chapter 4: Starting A New Life

**THE GREAT MOUSE DETECTIVE 2: A NEW BEGINNING  
**A "_Great Mouse Detective_" Fanfiction By The Mouse Avenger

Chapter 4:  
Starting A New Life

_**Saturday, October 24, 1897**_

_(CUE MUSIC: "Largo", from George Frederic Handel's "Xerxes")_

It was late morning—a little after 9:30 AM, to be precise—& the Flavershams were quietly spending the first day of their weekend at home. In her bedroom, Olivia (who was dressed in her regular day clothes, & looking a lot healthier, due to the food that Mr. Altoid had been giving her family) was sitting on the floor, watching a new episode of "_SquirrelBob AcornPants_" on television. [1] But despite the mouseling's smiling face & happy giggling at the humorous antics of the little cartoon squirrel & his pint-sized pal Ticky, something inside her didn't feel quite right...

When the show was over, Olivia got up to turn off the television, then walked over to her bed, sat down on the mattress, placed her head in her hands, & sighed wistfully, as the smile that had once been on her face gradually began to disappear. The little Scotsmouse had woken up to see a bright, beautiful day, & her heart had been filled with such hope & optimism...but she soon became gravely disappointed when she, her father, & Cousin Timmy saw each & every passerby walk past the toy shop, ignoring the 3 occupants. _So much for wishing & praying,_ Olivia thought bitterly, wondering why it didn't seem like God was doing anything to alleviate her situation. It had been less than 2 months since her family's troubles began, & although Mr. Altoid, Sophie, & many of the Flavershams' other friends & neighbors were going out of their way to help them, that still didn't change the fact that their business was faring poorly...if not as poorly as it was back in September. A couple of days every week, customers had come by to visit the toy shop, & had bought some of Hiram's wares, so the Flavershams were doing a little better than before...but even such small successes would not be enough to keep the toy shop open for a very long period of time.

Olivia sighed again, then got up, walked over to the door, & opened it. As she made her way through the hallway to the main room of the toy shop, she mused, _Maybe, I'll get a letter from my relatives saying that they'll come help us..._

* * *

Meanwhile, inside the main room, Hiram was seated at his worktable, working on a new set of toys; Cousin Timmy sat beside his uncle, watching him with great interest. Like Olivia, the 2 mice were dressed in their day clothes, & looking a lot healthier, due to Mr. Altoid providing the Flavershams with 3 square meals every day for the last month. But instead of disappointment, the expressions on Hiram & Cousin Timmy's faces were those of pleasantness; they both knew that Olivia was feeling discouraged—& they could understand why she felt that way, after all the misfortune that had fallen upon her family—but, hopefully, her spirits would lift when she saw how well the business was doing lately (compared to how it had been doing in September, anyway). The toy shop was, indeed, beginning to show signs of life once again, & if one were to take a look inside, (s)he could certainly tell that it _was_ doing better...though not by very much, for just a few of the many toys on display were missing, having been bought by the customers who came in throughout the course of the week. _But I'm sure more fursons will come in to buy toys next week, _Hiram thought optimistically, as he worked on his new set of playthings. _After all the support we've been getting throughout October, things can only continue to get better for us! _Hiram had to thank Mr. Altoid, Sophie, & all the Flavershams' other friends & neighbors for their gracious help, & when his business started booming again (which he had no doubt it would), he'd also be sure to thank them for their efforts to find rodents who would be interested in his services... [2] After all, if it wasn't for those new patrons, his business would probably never be on the road to recovery!

Unbeknownst to Hiram & Cousin Timmy, Olivia came in to join her relatives at the worktable; after taking her usual seat beside her father, the little Scotsmouse put her head in her hands, & watched Hiram working on the new set of toys for the shop...but not without noticing the white envelope that was resting on the surface of the table. "Daddy..." Olivia began, hoping to get Hiram's attention.

"Yes, baby?" Hiram replied, smiling a little, as he continued working.

"What's that?" Olivia asked curiously, pointing to the letter that lay by Hiram's elbow.

At first, Hiram didn't know what Olivia was talking about...until he looked down, & saw the envelope. "I got a letter from the mailmouse today," Hiram finally answered. "I just haven't opened it yet."

"Who's it from?" Olivia wanted to know.

"Just a second, dear," Hiram said, as he took the letter off of the table, & into his hand. When the older mouse saw the writing on the front of the envelope, he smiled in pleasant surprise, & told Olivia, "I think you'll be delighted to know who it's from!" With that, Hiram handed the letter to Olivia, who took it into her paws. Olivia stared at the envelope containing the epistle. It wasn't from her relatives; the sender's address told her that. The signature (hastily written in ink script) was a little difficult to read, but not _too_ difficult so that she couldn't make out the words "Basil"...& "Baker Street"! [3]

Olivia's mouth hung agape in shock. Glancing up at her father, Olivia gave Hiram a wide-eyed look that seemed to ask: "Could it be...?" When the toymaker smiled slyly at his daughter, & gave a little wink, Olivia then turned her gaze back to the envelope. _I wonder what it says,_ she thought. Being careful not to shred the envelope's contents, Olivia gently pried the seal open with her tiny fingers, before taking out the neatly-folded letter, & opening it up so that she could see the text written upon it. With that, Olivia began to read the letter aloud, her voice almost melting into Basil's own with each word she spoke...

_**Dear Olivia,**_

_**Hello. This is Basil Of Baker Street. Perhaps, you are surprised why I'm writing to you—after all, we haven't seen each other in a couple of months—but please allow me to explain.**_

_**I have seen you & your family in your struggles during the past several weeks...And I want to help make things better for all of you.**_

_**I feel it would be a most wonderful idea if you & your loved ones could take lodgings with me & Dr. Dawson at Baker Street while we help you get back on your feet again. Be sure to take all your belongings & things—you could be staying with us for quite a while...**_

_**I hope to hear from you soon, dear.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**Basil Of Baker Street**_

When she finished reading the letter, Olivia's face burst into a wide grin. This was it—this was the answer to her prayers! All the doubts & fears that once plagued her mind, were instantly cast aside, & the dark clouds that had been filling her skies, parted to reveal the rainbow at the end of the storm. The usual hope & optimism that marked Olivia's fursonality, had now returned to the mouseling's once-weary soul, bringing it out of the depths of darkness & despair! Her world of shadows became filled with light—blessed light!—& it was as if she could see life with a pair of rose-tinted glasses that she hadn't worn in so long...With that one letter, Basil had offered to completely change the course of Olivia's existence, as well as those of her father & cousin. Things for the Flavershams would improve as they never had before...if they would only accept the Great Mouse Detective's proposal to stay with him at his home. Brimming & beaming with anticipation, Olivia rushed onto Hiram's lap, staring up at him with big, bright eyes & a hopeful smile, as she asked, "Daddy, can we go & live with Basil?"

"I don't see why not," Hiram replied, returning Olivia's smile. The expression on his daughter's face revealed words that didn't need to be said, feelings that could never truly be described...All Olivia could do to express her gratitude, was give her father a great big hug & a kiss on the cheek, before sliding down off of Hiram's lap, landing on the floor, & scampering off to her room. There was a _lot_ of packing she had to do before the Flavershams embarked on their journey to Baker Street...

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: "Prelude To Act 1", from Giuseppe Verdi's "La Traviata")_

_The first thing I should pack, _Olivia thought as she stood on the floor of her bedroom, _is all my leisurely items. _With that in mind, Olivia took out all of her toy chests, opened one of them up, & withdrew the contents of the container, proceeding to organize them by group in a careful, but quick & timely, manner. She sorted all the Rainbow Toys, the dolls, the games, the music boxes, the musical instruments, the puzzles, the wind-up toys, the playsets, the electronic toys, & all the other various toys she had, before placing each group of playthings into a cardboard box. After that, Olivia put each mini-toy-box in the oaken toy chest, stacking them all neatly, until they filled the chest to the brim; then, she closed the lid of said chest, before performing the same set of routines with its "fellow mates".

Once she was done packing all of her toys, games, & playthings, Olivia proceeded to gather all of her crayons, her markers, her paints, her pastels, her sketchbooks, her pens & pencils, her paper, her art books, her brushes, her palette, her canvas, her collapsible easel, her compass, & her scrapbooks...before putting them all in two big backpacks, which she zipped closed. After that, Olivia went to get all of her books off the bookshelves & bookcase in her room, bringing them over to two large, empty chests. Olivia then stacked each book very neatly on top of another, making sure that both chests were filled to the brim, before she closed the lids.

Next, Olivia took out two big trunks, & opened them up, before going to gather all of the colorings, drawings, sketches, pictures, & paintings she had done over the years. After filling one of the trunks with these artworks, Olivia closed the lid of the container, before proceeding to get all of her stuffed animals, which she placed in the second trunk...although it _did_ take some effort for Olivia to squeeze them all in, before she could finally close the lid shut. Then, Olivia took out a small satchel, laid it out on the floor, & opened it up, before going over to collect all the photographs of her & her family; she placed these in the aforementioned satchel, along with her diary & a fuschia-ink pen, before closing the bag, & taking out a few suitcases. Once she had opened the valises, Olivia went to gather up the mementos & framed photos on her bookcase & in the rest of her room, before placing them in each of the suitcases, & closing the lids shut. After she was done with that, Olivia swacked the dust off her paws, then exited the bedroom to make her way into the Flavershams' kitchen / dining room, where she proceeded to gather some food for her, Cousin Timmy, & Hiram to snack on during the trip to Baker Street. It would be a long drive, after all...

After packing plenty of treats, Olivia took them into her bedroom, & placed them with the rest of her stuff, before going over to her armoire, & taking out all of the clothes that were in it. Hiram had sold most of Olivia's outfits to help get money for the toy shop, but that was quite all right with his daughter, for she had already outgrown those clothes in the 3 months that had passed since her birthday in July. _That certainly makes it easier for me to pack the garments I have left! _Olivia thought, as she placed the clothes from her armoire into another empty trunk. Once she had shut the lid to that container, Olivia went over to stand in front of a tall antique mirror; now, she could perform the very last step of her pre-departure preparations!

First, Olivia took out her single-breasted blue dress-coat—the main article of the ensemble of clothing that she liked to wear outdoors—& slipped it on over her furson, poking her arms through the sleeves with the rolled-up cuffs. Then, Olivia buttoned all of the dress-coat's dark-blue buttons, before adjusting the manly collar with two double-peaked "wings", & tucking in her black "cravat" (which was actually the big bow on her white shawl underneath). After that, Olivia took out her favorite "outdoor" hat: a large blue tam-o'shanter that was topped with a fuschia pom-pom, with a thick turquoise brim that had a matching forked ribbon jutting out from the back. Olivia put the Scottish cap on her head, & proceeded to move it about until it looked just right. Finally, Olivia took out the last part of her "outdoor" ensemble: a long turquoise scarf that was decorated with the plaid pattern of the Flaversham clan (consisting of thick red lines that were spaced far apart, & intersected with one another). Olivia wrapped the scarf snugly around her neck, & fastened it so that the loose end was trailing down over the front of her body, hiding the collar & buttons of her dress-coat from view. After looking up at her reflection in the mirror, Olivia smiled proudly when she saw herself dressed in her outing clothes. She was _sure_ to look nice for Basil, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson when the Flavershams came to see them at their house!

* * *

Later that day, Hiram had gotten all dressed up in his outing attire—the blue jacket with matching trousers, the crisp white shirt, the pinstriped red cravat, the shiny black shoes, & the blue bowler hat with the red ribbon-stripe, complete with glasses. The toymaker took a moment to adjust the aforementioned cravat, then smiled down at Olivia in a pleasant manner. The Flavershams (including Cousin Timmy, who was dressed in his usual outfit) were now standing in the main room of the toy shop, watching a team of large, burly muscle-mice carry all of the family's stuff (except for the furniture, which would remain in the building) into the fleet of moving vans that was waiting outside. After Hiram, Olivia, & Cousin Timmy saw the moving-mice bring the last of the items out of the toy shop, kitchen / dining room, & living quarters, they began making their way outside to join them on the pavement of Walnut Avenue.

As dictated by the rules of rodential driving, the Flavershams' car had been moved onto the sidewalk, & the moving vans were lined up behind it. As the moving-mice were packing the Flavershams' stuff into these vehicles, Olivia, Hiram, & Cousin Timmy walked out of the toy shop together. Hiram turned to shut the front door, & lock it with his key, before turning back to face his daughter & nephew with an eager smile. "Well, wee ones, let's be off!" Hiram exclaimed brightly. With that, the Flavershams made their way over to their car, opened the doors, & entered the automobile, with Olivia & Cousin Timmy both climbing into the back seat; Cousin Timmy sat on the left side of the car, & Olivia sat on the right side (behind the driver's seat, where Hiram took his place in front of the controls). After the moving-mice finished putting up the Flavershams' things, shut the sliding doors to their vans, & went to get in the drivers' cabins, everyone buckled their seatbelts; Hiram then started up the engine of his car, & the motorcade began making its way towards Baker Street. [4]

As the car drove down the eastern side of Walnut Avenue, Olivia turned back to take one long, last look at the toy shop where she had spent over 10 years of her life...In a way, Olivia was sad to be leaving the building at Lower 3314, but, at the same time, she was also looking forward to living with Basil, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson at their house. Even so, the little Scotsmouse couldn't help but reach out a paw to wave "goodbye" to the toy shop, almost as if she were bidding "farewell" to an old friend or acquaintance...She kept on waving until the car turned the corner onto the Crown Street offshoot, & the Flavershams' old home disappeared from view. Now, Olivia, Hiram, & Cousin Timmy were heading out for the place where they would begin a brand-new stage of their existence!

With her "left" elbow planted in the space behind the passenger-door window, & her head resting against the palm of her paw, Olivia was gazing out—& yet not really looking—at the scenery that passed by, daydreaming about the new life she & her family would soon be leading. She could just imagine what would happen when she entered the house on Baker Street...Basil & his friends, no doubt, would greet the Flavershams with open arms, & Mrs. Judson would treat everyone to her delicious, home-cooked meals. Then, everyone would spend some time together, merrily whiling away the hours, until the Flavershams moved into their new rooms, & got settled in for the night...before waking up to the wonderful new day that awaited them all! _It's going to be fantastic, _Olivia thought blissfully, as she smiled at the delightful visions that filled her head, foretelling of all the good things to come this afternoon...as well as the ones after it...

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the streets of the Whitechapel district (located in London's East End) were strangely empty...& peaceful. All the Jewish rodents were attending morning services at the synagogues, while tailors & seamstresses labored in their clothing shops. No muggers, murderers, or other hoodlums stalked the streets in the broad daylight, & all the inhabitants of the district were relaxing in their homes, enjoying the placid pre-noon hours of this oh-too-pleasant Saturday. All was quiet, & there didn't appear to be a sign of trouble anywhere...except on the mouse street of Poormouse Avenue (known to us humans as Old Castle Street), where a few beggarmice were loitering around. A little orphan mouse in raggedy clothing was hiding in an adjoining alleyway, his small paws clutching tightly at a piece of cheese he had recently "pinched" from a food vendor's booth. On the main road, an old, grizzle-faced street bum was pushing around a small cart (made out of a human's gravy bowl), which was filled with the food & pieces of junk that he had been collecting for several weeks. Not too far away down the street, a wretched-looking beggar mousette with white fur, covered in sores & infections, was walking around, shaking a tin cup in the hopes of getting sympathetic passersby to lend her some money. [5] But that wasn't where the trouble started...

_(CUE MUSIC: "Sunrise", from Richard Strauss' "Also Sprach Zarathustra")_

Suddenly, a tall pair of shadows began looming over Poormouse Avenue, as footsteps pounded down the cobblestone lane like the thunderous steps of a giant. In the alley, the orphan mouse was about to take a bite of his pilfered piece of cheese...but when he saw the large shadows rising over him, he abruptly stopped what he was doing, & shrank back fearfully, quivering from head to toe in absolute terror. On the main road, the street bum was still pushing his cart of stuff around...but when he looked up to see the strange shadows towering over him, the bum gave a gulp of fright, & immediately turned tail, furiously pushing his cart in his mad dash to exit the area (& evade any potential danger). And the beggar mousette was still walking about, shaking her tin cup...but when she turned to see the shadows before her, she instantly dropped said cup, & swiftly moved her paws up to stifle the gasp that was bursting forth from her lips. There, right in front of the beggar mousette & her friends, were a familiar pair of figures...none other than Ratigan & Fidget!

The unofficially-reformed rodents, both clutching a few suitcases, were standing with their paws on their hips, their arms akimbo, & their heads tilted up, as they sported proud, closed-mouth smiles on their faces. The two were dramatically back-lit by the sun in the sky, making their silhouettes seem all the more ominous to the 3 beggarmice...not that Ratigan & Fidget seemed to notice, as they went over to approach them. First, Ratigan stepped into the alley, before bending down to give a friendly smile & a wave of his gloved fingers at the little orphan mouse. The orphan mouse's expression of fright soon changed to an angry glare, & he immediately proceeded to bonk Ratigan on the nose with a mighty whack of his fist. But Ratigan was not the least bit daunted or deterred in his efforts to give his poor peers an amiable greeting; instead, he just left the alley, & went out to approach the street bum. The bum, eager to express his displeasure at seeing Ratigan, took a tomato from his cart, & splashed it in the younger rat's face, causing red goo to drip down from his head. _Well, maybe, Fidget will have better luck than me, _Ratigan thought somewhat-bitterly, as he attempted to clean the mess off his face, hair, & crown with a silk pawkerchief.

Meanwhile, a cheerfully-smiling Fidget approached the beggar mousette, extending a webbed hand in a friendly gesture to shake. In response, the beggar mousette gave a spiteful glare, & proceeded to stomp Fidget's toes on his left foot; Fidget immediately grabbed said foot, & started jumping up & down in agony, as he tried to alleviate his injury. [6] A few seconds later, Fidget finally managed to relieve the pain in his toes, & he went over to join Ratigan at his side. Both watched as the orphan mouse (holding his piece of cheese), the street bum (still pushing his cart), & the beggar mousette (clutching her tin cup in her paw) all turned around, & ran away, leaving Ratigan & Fidget alone in the middle of the street. The toothy, eager smiles on the ex-rogues' faces soon became sad, discouraged frowns, as their countenances fell in absolute disheartenment & disappointment. Their first attempt to make peace with the citizens of Mouse London did _not_ turn out in the manner they had originally anticipated. "Well, I can certainly say this isn't going too well," Ratigan remarked, turning to face Fidget with a desolate look.

"Ditto," Fidget replied, nodding his head in agreement. "I guess nobody knows that we're reformed yet."

"You have a good point, there, Fidget," Ratigan said thoughtfully. "Perhaps, we should make a formal announcement to our fellow rodents regarding our change of heart." With that in mind, Ratigan & Fidget took up their bags, & walked together down the street, before turning a corner to the left, walking down an adjoining passageway to another corner at the end, making a turn to their right, & going forward until they eventually wound up at the entrance to a nearby alley, where the low-income residents of the neighborhood had established one of Mouse London's many "poor places". In the crude community, the orphan mouseling, the street bum, & the beggar mousette had gathered with several other rodents of different species, ages, & nationalities; all of these fursons were dressed in rags or shabby clothing, & many of them were also very ill & sickly, or had various degrees of injury from whatever misfortunes had cropped up in their lives. In the middle of the poor place, there was a large (mouse-sized) can with a fire burning in it; a few rodents were standing around said can, trying to warm their paws in the heat of their makeshift hearth. None of the inhabitants of the poor place, however, took notice of Ratigan & Fidget standing in the threshold of their alley home.

Bending down & leaning in towards Fidget, Ratigan whispered into his comrade's ear, "Stay here for just one second, & follow my lead. I'll go up to them first." Then, sporting a broad smile, Ratigan calmly strolled towards the rodents in the poor place, throwing his arms out in a grand flourish, as he addressed them, "Brothers! Friends!" Upon seeing Ratigan, the street rodents all screamed, & ducked for cover, but Ratigan did not give up on his efforts to talk to them: "Listen to me, my fine rodential..."—he paused to think of a word that might serve as a suitable soubriquet—"...mates!"

One of the beggar mice who wasn't cowering in the corners & crannies of the poor place bravely approached Ratigan, angrily shaking his fist at him, as he yelled, "We don't want your filthy charity, you no-good bugger! Go back to school!"

"Join the army!" shouted another homeless furson, as he came out of his hiding place with a few of his fellow tramps, now mustering the courage to stand up to the rat who had ruined so many innocent lives in years past. "You can go off to kill a bunch of mice, & leave us good, law-abiding citizens alone!"

"But my brothers, my friends!" Ratigan cried, attempting to plead with the poverty-stricken rodents. "Listen to me!"

"_Friends..._" one beggar lady repeated to her gal pal mockingly, giving a sarcastic snort, & a derisive roll of her eyes. The impoverished mouse woman had to admit, she'd seen a lot of odd things in her time; for instance, she'd seen a jelly roll, heard a highway toll, & even seen a family tie...but she thought she'd "done seen" about everything when she saw Ratigan—the very furson who had maintained an 8-year career as Mouse London's #1 crime lord—_not only_ daring to show his face again after the Diamond Jubilee fiasco, but also having the nerve to think that he could just get along peacefully with law-abiding rodents, after all the horrible things he had done to them since 1889! Who on Mouse Earth did that scoundrel think he was, trying to associate with the likes of do-gooders, while acting like he wouldn't hurt a fly (when, in reality, he'd probably take great pleasure in doing so)? _Does he think we're bloody stupid? _the beggar lady couldn't help but wonder to herself in bewilderment. _More like __he's__ the stupid one..._

By now, Ratigan was growing desperate. Would _anyone_ listen to him? Would _anyone_ take notice of the honest & heartfelt sincerity in his words, his actions? "Mouse!" Ratigan exclaimed in an impassioned tone, trying to express one of his new thoughts on life. "Mousekind...is the only truth!"

"Truth? _Here's_ the only truth, you scoundrel!" one of the other street bums said angrily, as he dumped the contents of his bottle of ginger ale on Ratigan.

But Ratigan did not react to the vagabond's contemptuous gesture, nor did he care to; he was far too focused on his fursonal endeavors to prove that he was, indeed, a changed rat. "No, it's you, me, all of us!" he said. "I know I speak for everyone when..." By this point, the rodents in the poor place had had enough with these speeches, & they all started muttering angrily, as they slowly approached Ratigan, ready to attack him & Fidget. [7] Ratigan, however, remained calm, as he tried his best to soothe the "savage beasts" of the streets. "Stop!" he begged. "Please heed my words, fellow brethren &...sister...en!" Deciding to humor Ratigan (& get him off their backs), the residents of the poor place stopped in their tracks, & listened to Ratigan, who continued talking: "Now, then...The truth of the matter is this. In the 3 months that have passed since my fall from Big Ben, I have really taken the opportunity to examine my conscience, & consider a better, more satisfying way of life that even committing crime could never fulfill...And that way of life is that of a kind, gentle, stout-hearted, law-abiding citizen...like you!"

At this point, the rodents of the poor place paused, & began reflecting thoughtfully on Ratigan's words, as the ex-rogue continued, "I suppose it's hard for you to understand what I'm talking about. You've probably never experienced something like this before in your lives...& I don't particularly blame you. For the true & honest reformation of a criminal is a miraculous & extremely rare occurrence, a gracious opportunity to change that the hands of Mother Fate deem fit to grant to only a few individuals..." Then, after giving a clear of his throat, Ratigan added with a broad smile, "But as you can see, Fidget & I are blessed to be among those individuals!"

_(CUE SONG: "Criminals-Turned-Friends")_

With that, Ratigan began to sing to the rodents in the poor place, hoping he'd be able to convince them that he & Fidget had truly found a pathway to the world of goodness & light...

_**So you say we're dirty rotten scoundrels  
**__**Two 'pallin' partners in crime  
**__**Well, darling friends, that was then, & this is now  
**__**Changes have come with the times**_

Remembering Ratigan's earlier instructions to "follow his lead", Fidget joined in the song, addressing the indigent fursons before them with a lyrical verse of his own...

_**You've probably never, ever heard this,  
**__**But even villains can be cured!  
**__**Though it may seem out of whack, it's quite true  
**__**That once-corrupt souls can be pure**_

Then, Ratigan & Fidget began to sing together...

_**You...see...we're...**_

_**Criminals-turned-friends  
**__**We kid you not, dear fellows  
**__**Criminals-turned-friends  
**__**It's as true as Big Ben bellows!**_

_**You say a rodent rogue  
**__**Is unable to amend  
**__**But soon you'll stand corrected  
**_'_**Cause we're criminals-turned-friends!**_

But Ratigan wasn't quite finished making his (musical) statement to the rodents of the poor place. He continued to sing, switching to a verse that focused on the main point of his 'speech', the real crux of the matter...

_**So you say we're vicious little varmints  
**__**With no virtue to our evil name  
**__**Well, darling friends, that was then, & this is now  
**__**Now we're cleansed of all our sin & shame**_

Once again following Ratigan's lead, Fidget joined in with his own verse that further elaborated on the main point that Ratigan was trying to establish...

_**We know you probably don't believe us,  
**__**But every word we say is true  
**__**All our crimes will be atoned for,  
**__**And both our lives will be renewed**_

Then, Ratigan & Fidget began singing in unison, working to bring their 'speech' to its ultimate conclusion...

'_**Cause...we...are...**_

_**Criminals-turned-friends  
**__**The truth we tell, old beans  
**__**Criminals-turned-friends  
**__**It's as true as grass is green!**_

_**You say a rodent rogue  
**__**Is unable to amend  
**__**But soon you'll stand corrected  
**_'_**Cause we're criminals-turned-friends!**_

_**You say a rodent cannot change,  
**__**That he'll stay on his evil trend  
**__**But now you know such thoughts are strange,  
**_'_**Cause we're criminals-turned-friends!**_

_**And now you stand corrected,  
**_'_**Cause we're criminals-turned-friends!**_

_**Yeah!**_

When Ratigan & Fidget were finished with their song, the rodents in the poor place didn't know exactly how to react. They were all struck with a mixture of various emotions—shock, surprise, awe, astonishment, amazement—& their minds were taken up by a whirlwind of many thoughts. Was it true? Was it really true that Ratigan & Fidget wanted to make new lives for themselves? Did they _really_ have their sights set on reforming? It seemed so hard to believe...&, yet, years of living on the streets had taught the rodents of the poor place several things. It had made them become more street-smart, more wise in the ways of the world, & more skilled at judging the character of fursons they encountered. Little bits of body language—such as a smile, a frown, a twitch, a tremor, a flash of the teeth, a wrinkle of the flesh, or a gleam or glimmer in the eyes—could serve as signs that told so much about a furson's motivations...Oh, but _especially_ the eyes! The eyes were the biggest & most important window to the soul! And there was _something_ in Ratigan & Fidget's eyes that seemed to tell the poverty-stricken rodents that their words to them were honest & sincere...that their intentions were noble...that they had no desire to deceive or trick them in any way. And with that judgement, came the sinking suspicion...that, somehow, they were right. The rodents in the poor place soon started smiling, & began to mutter in agreement about the conclusion they had reached. "Think we should start tellin' everybody about this?" the orphan mouseling asked the beggar mousette in an excited tone.

"Oh, yes, let's _all_ start spreadin' the gossip!" the beggar mousette replied eagerly, nodding her head up & down in affirmation. "The more Mouse London knows of Ratigan & Fidget's reformation, the better it'll be for everyone!" When they saw the poor rodents' positive reactions to their announcement, Ratigan & Fidget couldn't help but smile at one another, sharing a gesture that indicated their satisfaction at their fursonal triumph. Step 1 of Operation: Reformation was now officially complete!With that success in mind, Ratigan & Fidget both took up their bags again, & made their way out of the poor place to continue on their journey to Baker Street. Hopefully, the money they had in their pockets would pay for a quick lunch...& a time-saving Mousetro ride through Central Mouse London!

* * *

As it turned out, however, Ratigan & Fidget were not able to successfully find food or transportation. Every restaurant they went to refused them service, & when they attempted to board a Mousetro tram, the driver would not accept their money. And, yet, Ratigan was not really surprised by any of this, for he knew all along that fursons would not so easily forget his past transgressions, even after 3 whole months of criminal inactivity; the only reason that the rodents of the poor place believed Ratigan & Fidget was because they had very good skills at judging character, which helped them to see how truthful & honest the ex-rogues were being. Unfortunately, those who did not live on the streets felt that they had no need for such skills, &, thus, they lacked that ability to sense the inner workings of a rodent's soul; therefore, they did not believe that Ratigan & Fidget were telling the truth about their change of lifestyle.

But Ratigan did not give into defeat or despair. He knew that the process of assimilating into proper Neo-Mousetorian society would be long & difficult, & he knew that it would not be easy to get other rodents to trust him...but he had absolutely no doubt that he _could_ do it. _And making peace with Basil will certainly help,_ Ratigan thought, as he & Fidget walked down the sidewalk of the mouse street of Westerly Road (known to us humans as Westway). The avenue, located in the Shepherds Bush district of London's West End (not to mention the same borough where the Flavershams once lived), spanned over a big hill that went eastward to the area where Baker Street was...& it wouldn't be too long before Ratigan & Fidget finally reached their destination! [8]

_(CUE MUSIC: Frederick The Great's "Hohenfriedberger March", as performed by Leonard Rosenman)_

Clutching their suitcases, Ratigan & Fidget both hiked up the hill, marching down the pavement with a merry spring in their steps. The more they walked, the closer they got to Baker Street...& the closer they got to Baker Street, the more their anticipation grew! Ratigan & Fidget were finding it harder & harder to wait until the moment when they finally made peace with Basil (& all his friends, of course)! As he led his batty friend up the hill, Ratigan beamed, "Oh, Basil's going to be so excited to find out that his former enemies have turned over new leaves!" Suddenly, Ratigan & Fidget's ears perked up to a calamitous cacophony nearby...

At the crest of the hill, the fleet of moving vans had stopped behind the Flavershams' car; Olivia, Cousin Timmy, & Hiram were all outside the automobile...& it appeared that they had gotten involved in a very dangerous situation. Two muggers had spotted the migrating cavalcade coming up the hill, & the sight of the vans made the greedy hoodlums think of all the wonderful treasures that could be in them...just waiting to be taken into their possession! After the muggers had gotten the Flavershams to stop their car, they forced them to exit the vehicle...&, now, they were trying to hold the family hostage, so they could steal the stuff from the moving vans. Olivia, Cousin Timmy, & Hiram, however, fought valiantly to break free from the grip of the muggers; Olivia, in particular, was putting up an especially-good fight. "Let me go, you big, dumb bully!" Olivia shouted angrily, as she struggled in one mugger's grasp. "We're not going to let you take our stuff!" To prove her point, Olivia gave a mighty swing of her fist...& hit the mugger in a place that was, shall we say, _very_ uncomfortable!

The mugger ignored the aching in his groin, however, & he sneered at Olivia, pointing a threatening finger at her. "Listen 'ere, you lil' brat," the bandit started to say, but he was cut off in mid-sentence when Olivia bit his finger. The mugger immediately dropped Olivia with a yowl of agony, before trying to tend to his injured index, which was reddened & throbbing with pain. Having distracted the first mugger, Olivia ran over to his partner-in-crime, who was holding Cousin Timmy up in the air by one paw; with a good, rough kick to the shin, Olivia got the second mugger to let go of Timmy...but not without letting out a scream of torment.

"Ouch!" the second mugger cried, as he clutched his aching leg, & started hopping up & down on the other foot. "Cheese & crumpets, that hurts!" After finally getting the swelling in his leg to go down, the second mugger glared at Olivia & Cousin Timmy with a look that could have peeled paint; those two troublemakers were in for it now! With their sights set on revenge & retaliation, the two muggers prepared to chase the Flaversham cousins, but Hiram dodged in their way, determined to protect the mouselings from any harm. Before too long, Hiram got into a physical confrontation with the muggers, who were trying their best to overpower the toymaker (but without much success).

Not too far away, a certain couple had seen everything, & they didn't want those nasty ne'er-do-wells to get away with robbing any of the Flavershams' belongings. But what could they do to stop them? Taking a quick look around, Ratigan spotted the two large carts that the muggers used to travel around in (& also carry stolen goods in)...& cracked a sly smile, as an idea came to him. _This couldn't be a more opportune time for me to do my first good deed!_ he thought. _And I know just how to carry it out..._

Meanwhile, the fracas between the Flavershams & their attackers was still continuing...until everything came to a sudden halt when the mice all heard a sharp whistle, followed by a cry of "Excuse me!" When the Flavershams & the muggers turned to face the furson who had addressed them, they saw a rat in royal garb standing between a certain pair of vehicles that belonged to a certain pair of thieves. Gesturing to the wooden wagons, the rat told the muggers with a smug grin, "I believe these are your carts." Then, he gave both carts a push, sending them wheeling down the hill.

When he saw this happening, the second mugger immediately panicked, & he took to his heels. "Come on, you idiot!" he told his partner, beckoning for him to join him at his side. "The carts are moving!" Shouting & yelling, the two muggers began running away from the Flavershams (& their cavalcade) to chase after the runaway carts, following them all the way down to the bottom of the hill. With a mischievous smirk on his face, Ratigan watched the muggers pursue the wagons even further down the road...before bracing for the jostling impact of the bandits with their carts. His plan had worked, just as he thought it would! After the crash had occurred, Ratigan opened his eyes, & turned to face the Flavershams...but he instantly became shocked when he saw that the family had already gone back on their way to Baker Street, with the fleet of moving vans following after them. Waving their arms & suitcases frantically about, Ratigan & Fidget hurried to catch up with the Flavershams, hoping they could get to Baker Street at the same time they did; it would certainly save them an extra trip to Walnut Avenue!

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: Orchestral version of "Jeg Elsker Dig", by Edvard Grieg)_

Early that afternoon, in the living room of his newly-refurbished house, Basil Of Baker Street sat in his favorite red armchair; he had not changed out of his house attire, for he was still wearing his dark-fuschia terrycloth robe with the black cuffs, collar, & trimmings over his white shirt-sleeves & mesquite-brown trousers, & his feet were still clad in the black shoes with ash-gray spats (although he _had_ decided to exchange his blue necktie for a turquoise one, which he often wore with his robe). [9] Then again, Basil didn't usually wear his mouse detective outfit indoors, except under certain circumstances...but Basil wasn't thinking about all that; instead, he was waiting for the moment when the Flavershams would arrive on his doorstep. As anticipated as Basil was to see his old friends, however, his patience was increasingly wearing thin; he didn't know if he could wait much longer for the Flavershams to show up. "Are they here yet?" Basil asked impatiently, as he drummed his fingers on the right arm of his chair.

In the antechamber leading to the front door, Mrs. Judson was gazing out the big round window that looked out onto the street. Before too long, she saw a green car, followed by a fleet of moving vans, pour into the driveway. "I think I see them now, Mr. Basil!" Mrs. Judson said happily, as she turned to face the detective with a broad smile. And lo & behold, the mousekeeper's words were confirmed with the sound of Hiram honking his horn. "Yes, they're here!" Mrs. Judson exclaimed, brimming with excitement. "They're here, Mr. Basil!"

Back in the living room, Dr. Dawson was sitting across from Basil in his favorite green armchair; the medical mouse was now dressed in his regular daytime outfit, along with a lavender-orchid English cap that he wore on his head. When he heard Mrs. Judson announce that Olivia & her family were at the house, Dr. Dawson looked up from the newspaper he had been reading, & put it down on the side of his chair, as he said joyfully, "Oh, the Flavershams have arrived! How wonderful!"

"Let's go greet them post-haste!" Basil exclaimed, as he got up out of his own chair, & followed Dr. Dawson into the antechamber. Basil then went over to the main entrance, with Dr. Dawson & Mrs. Judson trailing after him, & opened the front door. Standing in the threshold...was none other than little Olivia Flaversham, all dressed up in her outing clothes, with one of her suitcases clutched in her tiny paw; Hiram & a boy mouseling (presumably one of Olivia's relatives) were standing right behind her, on the front porch. And judging from the way Olivia was smiling up at Basil, the detective could tell that the young Scotsmouse was extremely happy to see him; quite frankly, Basil felt the same way about the Flavershams, & he expressed his inner gladness with a fond smile. "Olivia...welcome to Lower 221B Baker Street," Basil said warmly, as he kneeled down before Olivia. The little mouseling immediately rushed into Basil's arms for a great big hug, as Cousin Timmy, Hiram, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson watched on with sweet smiles & adoring expressions.

"Oh, Basil, I'm so happy to see you again!" Olivia said gleefully, as she wrapped her wee arms around Basil. "I missed you whole bunches!"

"I missed you whole bunches, too, myself, dear," Basil replied tenderly, returning the hug. "Baker Street wasn't much fun without you around."

Olivia couldn't help but giggle when she heard that. "Thanks, Basil!" she said, before reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss the detective on the nose. In response, Basil's cheeks blushed a bright red, & everyone laughed in amusement at Basil's bashful reaction to Olivia's gesture of affection. [10] _I suppose I haven't gotten __entirely__ used to the emotions thing, _Basil thought. _But I'm quite sure that I will in the days to come..._

After the laughter subsided—& after his cheeks returned to their normal color—Basil rose to his feet, & gently extended his paw out towards Olivia (who took it in her own hand), as he said happily, "I do hope you enjoy your new home, Miss Flaversham! We've got plenty of surprises to show you, if you'll walk this way, my dear..."

Just as Basil was about to lead Olivia & the others inside, however, a large pair of shadows loomed over them, & a familiar voice called out cheerfully, "Good afternoon, Basil, Flavershams, Dawson! A pleasure to see all of you again on this lovely day!" Upon turning to see the source of the shadows, Basil & the others all let out horrified screams! The Flavershams ran to hide in a nearby bush, Mrs. Judson fainted to the floor, Dr. Dawson went to revive the mousekeeper, & Basil glared angrily at the uninvited guests who had just joined them.

_(CUE MUSIC: "Anitra's Dance", from Edvard Grieg's "Peer Gynt" Suite)_

"Wait, now, what's all the hullaballoo about?" asked a familiar furson in royal garb...none other than Ratigan! He was standing with Fidget on the front porch, clutching all their suitcases in his two paws, while a smiling Fidget presented gift baskets & glass bottles of soda pop in his wings. Both were looking positively harmless...& cheerful, despite their less-than-friendly reception. "Well, you're not just gonna leave your guests standing on the porch, are you?" Ratigan asked, acting amused about the others' reaction to his presence. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to keep us out of the house..." Then, with a wink & a coy smile, Ratigan added, "I believe you mentioned you had some _surprises _planned for us, am I right, Basil?"

"Are we havin' a party?" Fidget said, holding up the gift baskets & bottles of soda pop. "Don't worry, I brought goodie bags & Rodent's Delight for everyone!"

"Fidget, I believe you know that those 'presents' were meant for our gracious hosts," Ratigan whispered aside to his partner, before smiling & gesturing out with outstretched arms & palms to the Flavershams, Basil, Dr. Dawson, & Mrs. Judson.

"So it _is_ a party?" Fidget asked Ratigan, staring at his former boss cluelessly.

Now becoming quite annoyed with Fidget, Ratigan slapped his forehead, as he replied, "No, it is _NOT _a party!"

"Den why did you tell me to bring dese?" Fidget demanded to know.

"Fidget, we've already gone through this!" Ratigan ejaculated in frustration. Before long, he & Fidget got into an argument, & as the two squabbled, Ratigan only became _more_ irritated & exasperated with his ex-minion. Finally, Ratigan ended the heated exchange with an irked inquiry: "Oh, for heaven's sakes, Fidget, will you ever shut up, & listen to me for _just one second?_"

A beat of silence passed, before Fidget made his response: "I just did right now." When Ratigan turned to glare at him, all Fidget could do was smile sheepishly, & titter.

The Flavershams & the others, however, _weren't_ laughing, & the spiteful expressions on their faces clearly indicated to Ratigan & Fidget that they were not welcome. A glaring Cousin Timmy went up to Ratigan, & poked him thrice in the nose with his forefinger, as he said sternly, "Two words: scram!"

"That's one word, Cousin Timmy," Olivia corrected.

"So?" Timmy replied nonchalantly, as he turned to face his kinsmouse.

But Olivia did not say anything back; instead, she, Hiram, Cousin Timmy, Mrs. Judson, Dr. Dawson, & the moving-mice (carrying all the Flavershams' stuff) proceeded to make their way inside the house...but before Basil joined them, he stayed for a moment to give Ratigan a few last words. "Get...out...immediately," the detective said firmly. "And don't come back, you fiend!" Ratigan started to protest, but the door was already closed before he could say anything.

Ratigan sighed in exasperation, as he lowered his gaze to the floor, his gloved hands in his royal robe pockets. Aside from the incidents at the poor place & on Westerly Road, this day was just not going well for him _or _Fidget. Already, Fidget was beginning to feel that he & Ratigan shouldn't have come to Baker Street in the first place; if their efforts to make peace with Basil & his friends didn't turn out successfully, why had they even bothered trying? "Uh...maybe, we should just go back to da hideout," Fidget suggested timidly.

Ratigan, however, did _not_ take this idea lightly. "_NO, _Fidget!" he said angrily, turning to glare down at his batty comrade. "We're _NOT_ going back there! We'd be giving into the temptation of evil already!" Then, looking back up with an expression of grim determination, he added, "We _HAVE_ to try again!" And, so, Ratigan began knocking on the front door of Basil's house, hoping that someone would answer it...& listen to what he had to say!

Inside the house, Basil was watching the Flavershams & the moving-mice make their way through the antechamber that led into the living room. The detective was just about to follow them...but he was interrupted in mid-step by the sound of knocking. When he realized that someone was at the door, Basil gave an annoyed grunt & a roll of his eyes; it either had to be Ratigan...or a Campfire Lass selling boxes of variously-flavored cookies, which he had no desire to purchase at this time. [11] In any case, Basil turned around, & went back to answer the door. He was stunned—& yet not entirely surprised—to see Ratigan still standing in the threshold, smiling nervously.

Basil couldn't believe it! Not only was Ratigan alive & kicking, but he had the absolute nerve to show up on his doorstep, as if he were expecting the detective to forget all that had happened between them in the past 8 years! But Basil knew that Ratigan, despite being 11 years his junior, was just as smart as he was (if not smarter!); he was certainly intelligent enough to know that Basil was not so easily going to forget his transgressions...let alone allow him & Fidget into his home. [12] For all he knew, Ratigan was planning to start up a new criminal empire, & he only wanted to get into the house to seek revenge on Basil & his friends! Coming out from behind the front door to confront Ratigan face-to-face, Basil said angrily, "I thought I told you to..."

"Wait, Basil, listen to me, please!" Ratigan pleaded, waving his paws vigorously in front of him. "I've changed!"

"Changed? What on Earth are you talking about?" Basil asked in utter disbelief.

_(CUE SONG: "I've Changed")_

In response, Ratigan put on a smug smile, & replied, "Glad you asked." And he began to explain about his reformation to Basil in song...

_**Oh, Basil, old friend, don't you see  
**__**That foul Napoleon's history!  
**__**I've changed! Yes, I've gone & turned  
**__**My crime-filled life around**_

_**Forget those awful times of yore  
**__**That wicked villain's here no more!  
**__**I've changed! Yes, I've...**_

"Changed? Ha!" Basil scoffed. "These ears won't hear _that_ sound!"

"Now, Basil..." Ratigan began, but he was cut off in mid-sentence by the older mouse. The detective poked & prodded Ratigan, stepping closer towards him every time he did so, as he sang...

_**Don't try to tell those horrid lies  
**__**And smile beneath those sneaky eyes!  
**__**You'll change, yes, the tide will turn  
**__**When snails begin to dance!**_

_**Rogues never change! They stay the same!  
**__**They always play their callous games  
**__**And I see no reason to  
**__**Give you a second chance!**_

Not giving up on his desperate desire to explain things to Basil, Ratigan said, "I'm afraid you're sadly mistaken, my boy..."

_**Oh, Basil, chum, just hear me out!  
**__**There is no need for you to doubt!  
**__**I've changed for the better,  
**__**And I'll make you see that fact!**_

_**I know that I've lied to you  
**__**And said what I knew wasn't true  
**__**But times are a-changin',  
**__**And this is certainly no act!**_

"_There never __WAS__ a reformation!_" Basil sang angrily.

"Why on Earth won't you believe me?" Ratigan asked desperately.

"_It's all a great big fabrication!_"

"I've truly changed! Can't you see me?"

"_You want to put us in a trap!_"

"I'm not trying to pull any wool!"

"_So don't hand me that stupid schmap!_"

"You're only being a stubborn fool!" Ratigan said irritatedly, but Basil wouldn't let him hear the end of it...

_**You'll never change, my long-time foe,  
**__**And don't convince me otherwise!  
**__**The day you'll get me to believe you  
**__**Is when Felicia flies!**_

Despite Basil's doubts, however, Ratigan was determined to show his ex-enemy that he had, indeed, turned over a new leaf...

_**But don't you understand that I  
**__**Only want to do what's right!  
**__**I want to end my days of vice  
**__**And fill my days with warmth & light!**_

Basil was getting tired of this game with Ratigan. He wanted it to end, & he wanted it to end now! Glaring daggers at the younger rat, Basil sang...

_**Of all the tricks you've ever played,  
**__**This one annoys me to no end!  
**__**When will you stop trying to show me  
**__**That a rodent can amend?**_

Looking just as irritated as Basil was, Ratigan sang in reply...

_**Look here, moy dorogoy droog,  
**__**I don't like what you're trying to convey!  
**__**Kindly stop being so rude  
**__**And listen to what I have to say!**_

Then, sporting that desperate look on his face once again, Ratigan tried to convince Basil of his reformation one more time...

_**Oh, Basil, old friend, don't you see  
**__**That foul Napoleon's history!  
**__**I've changed! Yes, I swear I've changed!**_

"_I find that hard to see!_" Basil said cynically, but Ratigan did not give up in his efforts to persuade the detective...

_**Oh, Basil, dear chum, are you wrong!  
**__**That cruel professor's dead & gone!  
**__**I'm no longer mean or vicious  
**__**And though this may sound fictitious,  
**__**I've changed for the better,  
**__**And I hope you will agree!**_

_(CUE MUSIC: "Dance Of The Blessed Spirits", from Christoph W. Gluck's "Orpheus & Eurydice")_

Basil didn't know what to think. Never in his whole life had he ever heard of—let alone seen—a criminal reforming...He always used to think that villains always stayed the way they were, & never had a desire to change their lives for the better. But, maybe, Basil was wrong to a degree. After all, just because he never saw something happen, didn't necessarily mean that it _couldn't_ happen...right? All right, so, maybe, a criminal _could_ reform...but Basil would have expected that to happen to someone like a bank robber or a forger, not _Ratigan!_ Throughout the last 8 years, Ratigan had thoroughly enjoyed committing crimes, & he never made any attempt to hide this. But after his defeat on the night of the Diamond Jubilee, perhaps, he changed his mind about his lifestyle, & wanted to find a better one...but what had driven Ratigan to supposedly reform? Guilt? Shame? Remorse? The crushing pain of his fursonal failure? Boredom with a life of crime? Basil had no way to tell. It seemed that there were too many questions, & not enough answers...but after a few moments of careful consideration, Basil finally decided that there may be some truth in Ratigan's words, & with a sigh, he said, "Well...I still don't trust you...but I'm hoping that I actually will see signs of improvement in your character." Then, beckoning for Ratigan & Fidget to follow him into the house, Basil added, "Come on in."

With that, Ratigan & Fidget took up their bags & other items, & followed Basil inside. As soon as the two left the porch, Basil shut the front door closed, & led Ratigan & Fidget down the antechamber. Then, sporting a broad, toothy smile, Basil grandly bowed, & gestured to the stairs leading down into the (newly-refurbished) living room, where Olivia, Hiram, Cousin Timmy, Mrs. Judson, & Dr. Dawson were seated on a large purple couch & an azure loveseat. As he walked with Ratigan into the sitting area, gazing around the place with a mixture of childlike awe & delight, an impressed Fidget said, "Wow, nice..."—he paused to think of a good word—"..._crib _you got here!"

"Well, thank you very much, Fidget!" a flattered Basil replied, as he followed the bat & Ratigan down the stairs into the living room.

"You know what 'crib' means, Basil?" Fidget asked curiously, sitting down with Ratigan on a fuschia chaise lounge.

"Well, as the Master, Sherlock Holmes, once said, 'American slang is very expressive sometimes'," Basil answered, taking his seat by the Flavershams on the couch.

Everyone couldn't help but laugh at Basil's humorous quotation. "Yes, Fidget & I would certainly agree with you on that!" Ratigan told the detective in between chuckles.

When the laughter finally subsided, Mrs. Judson rose out of her seat, & asked, "I suppose you're all getting hungry for lunch?" Picking up the hem of her dress in her paws, the mousekeeper began scuttling off to the kitchen, as she exclaimed, "Well, don't worry! I'll have some herbal tea & cheddar-cheese crumpets out for you in a jiffy!" Then, going off on a bit of a fursonal tangent, Mrs. Judson added (more to herself than the others), "And maybe, perhaps, some cheese soufflé _a la _Stilton...Mr. Basil loves that! [13] And I think I might also prepare some cheese tarts...& cheese soup...& cheesemallow delights..."

Once Mrs. Judson had finally exited the living room, & her chattering was silenced with the shutting of the kitchen door, Dr. Dawson (who had been sitting by Mrs. Judson on the loveseat) turned to face the Flavershams. Hoping to begin a conversation with his friends, the medical mouse asked, "So, uh, how have you been doing since you returned to Mouse London?"

"Not too well, I'm afraid," Hiram replied with a heavy sigh, & a shake of his head. "But I'm certain Basil's already told you about our present dilemma back at the toy shop. It started out nicely at first, but, then, things began going downhill..." But Hiram tried to smile, as he added, "We're hoping they'll get better in time, though."

"Don't worry, Mr. Flaversham," Dr. Dawson said optimistically. "I'm sure they will." But the portly physician did not want to leave the toymaker & his family in a gloomy mood by bringing up bad memories, & he decided to change the topic by asking, "So, uh, what's Olivia been up to lately?"

"Aside from all the recent rigamarole, & the holiday with our relatives in Scotland, it's been pretty much the usual for her during the last few months, I suppose," Hiram answered.

"And who's that charming young mouse with you, Olivia?" Dr. Dawson asked, pointing to the boy seated beside the little Scotsmouse. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"He's my cousin, Timmy Flaversham," Olivia replied. "He's older than me by about 1 year; I'm 10 this year, so he's about 11." [14]

"Oh, well, then, it's a pleasure to meet you, Cousin Timmy!" Dr. Dawson said genially, as he got up out of his seat, & went over to shake Timmy's paw. Then, after he had done so, he gave a bow, & tipped his lavender-orchid English cap, as he introduced himself: "I am Basil's trusted associate, Dr. David Q. Dawson."

"Oh, right, the fat guy!" Cousin Timmy blurted out upon recognizing the name...but when he saw the hurt look on Dr. Dawson's face (& the glares that his relatives were giving him), Timmy rephrased his earlier statement: "I mean, yeah, of course, I know you, Dr. Dawson. Cousin Olivia & Uncle Hiram told me all about you." Then, Timmy immediately turned, & started slapping a paw against his forehead in reproachment, as he angrily reprimanded himself, "Aw, _that_ was a real nice thing to say! Way to go, Timmy! Now, you just insulted Livvy & Basil's friend! Aw, Timmy, you're so stupid, stupid, stupid!"

But Dr. Dawson was a very forgiving fellow, & he bore no anger at Cousin Timmy for his _faux pas_; the only thing he felt was concern that the lad might hurt himself! Hoping to stop Cousin Timmy from slapping his head anymore, Dr. Dawson gently took the mouseling's paw, & pulled it down to place it at his side, as he said in his kindly voice, "Oh, Timmy, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm. It's quite all right, I assure you...really." He then gave a smile at Cousin Timmy, who calmed down, & sported a look of relief (while also returning the smile).

"Well, if you say so," Cousin Timmy uttered with a small hint of hesitancy. "But, seriously, it's very nice to meet you." With that, he began to shake Dr. Dawson's paw, which he'd still been holding in his own. "You know, I kinda like shaking hands," Cousin Timmy remarked pleasantly.

Continuing to shake Cousin Timmy's paw, Dr. Dawson gave a chortle of amusement, & made his amiable response: "Yes...I do, too, Timmy." When the two mice were finally done with their handshake, Dr. Dawson went back over to the loveseat, & took his place in the spot he had been sitting in. No sooner had Dawson done this, than Basil sniffed the air, & turned to face the others with a large smile.

"I think I smell some of Mrs. Judson's delightful cheese crumpets," Basil said, & when he sniffed the air again, he took note of their flavor: "And they're cheddar!"

Soon, Mrs. Judson walked out of the kitchen to enter the living room, where she began placing all sorts of delectable treats before Basil, Dr. Dawson, Olivia, Hiram, Cousin Timmy, Ratigan, & Fidget—piping hot cups of herbal tea with cheddar-cheese crumpets, cheese soufflé _a la_ Stilton, cheese soup, cheese-cake, cheese muffins, cheese tarts, cheese pie, & cheesemallow delights...Oh, what a mouth-watering assortment of delightful dairy dishes had been prepared! Taking some food for herself, & sitting down by Dr. Dawson, Mrs. Judson declared cheerfully, "Well, I think this should be enough for a 'welcoming-the-Flavershams' banquet! Dig in, everyone!" And, with that, Olivia, Hiram, Cousin Timmy, Basil, Dr. Dawson, Mrs. Judson, Ratigan, & Fidget all started eating their lunch.

At one point, Basil took ahold of his cup of tea, & lifted it up high in the air, as he said, "Everyone, if you would kindly raise your teacups..." The others did so, & Basil continued, "I would like to propose a toast. To faith, family, friendship...& the Flavershams!" Basil, Olivia, her loved ones, & their friends all toasted their teacups, & brought them back down to take sips of their drinks, before they continued eating their midday meal, sharing pleasant conversations all the while.

The luncheon feast seemed to go on for hours, yet it was only one hour-&-a-half before Basil & the others were finally finished with their food, & began to do away with their trash & leftovers. At this time, the muscle-mice from the moving vans started walking through the living room, going up the stairs to the antechamber, & making their way to the front door. One of the moving-mice turned to look at Hiram, Olivia, & Cousin Timmy, & gave them a thumbs-up, as he said, "OK, Mr. Flaversham, we got all your stuff out of the vans, & into the house! It's all good!"

"Thank you so much, Mr. Moving-Mouse!" Hiram said amiably. "We sincerely appreciate it!" The moving-mouse smiled in response, then went off to exit the house with his partners, shutting the front door behind him. Then, Hiram looked back to see Mrs. Judson going to collect the empty dishes & silverware from everyone...& the toymaker instantly thought of that delicious banquet he had helped himself to just a while ago! Smiling in contentment, Hiram rubbed his paw over his now-full stomach, as he remarked, "Well, that was certainly a satisfying lunch!"

"Yes, indeed, it was, Mr. Flaversham," Basil assented. Then, with a clear of his throat, the detective added, "But, of course, that was just the first of the many surprises we have in store for you here!"

"Do you know what the next one is?" Olivia asked, her face brimming with excitement.

"I think you'll be delighted to see it, my dear Olivia," Basil replied cheerfully. "It's waiting for you up in Mrs. Judson's room, on the third floor." With that, everyone got up out of their seats, & followed Basil up the staircase to the second story of the house, where Basil's bedroom, Basil's study room, Dr. Dawson's room, & three other bedrooms were. On the east side of the hallway, next to the door of Dr. Dawson's room, was an open threshold allowing entry into a "hidden" passageway with a staircase. Basil led Olivia & the others up this stairway, & they soon got to the third floor, where six bedrooms (including a special one for house guests) were. The first room on the east side of the hallway was Mrs. Judson's room, & Basil, the Flavershams, & their friends made their way into the mousekeeper's fursonal chambers.

Mrs. Judson's bedroom was of a modest & humbly-decorated sort, with melon-orange walls that perfectly complemented the tangerine-orange carpet. A humble, but nice-looking, light fixture dangled from the ceiling, illuminating the room with a bright fluorescent glow. On the east wall, a small, simple bed with a mahogany headboard & a pale-beige mattress (covered with pale-beige sheets & a warm, fuzzy burnt-orange blanket) rested below a big square window, which was flanked on either side by large fuschia curtains with golden draw-tassels. A pair of violet velvet chairs stood in the center of the room, with a mahogany armoire resting behind them on the north wall. A mahogany sewing table & a mahogany writing desk (both with matching chairs) were on the west wall, separated from one another by the door that led into the room. On the south wall, there was another door that led into Mrs. Judson's closet.

"I'm sorry there's not too many places for you to sit," Mrs. Judson said apologetically, as she watched Basil, Dr. Dawson, the Flavershams, Ratigan, & Fidget enter her quarters. "But feel free to take any available spot you like!" Basil & Dr. Dawson took their seats in the violet chairs, while Ratigan & Fidget sat down on the bed. After dragging out the two other chairs in the room, & bringing them closer to where Basil & Dr. Dawson were sitting, Cousin Timmy sat down in the chair that went with the writing desk, Hiram sat down in the chair that went with the sewing table, & Olivia climbed up into her father's lap. Once everyone had made themselves comfortable, Basil asked Mrs. Judson if she could kindly fetch a trunk from his room downstairs. The mousekeeper was all-too-eager to oblige, & she went off to make her way down to the second floor. In a matter of minutes, Mrs. Judson came back with a large wooden chest, which she proceeded to drag across the floor of her room. "OK, Mr. Basil, here's the trunk!" Mrs. Judson announced, as she finally placed the container in front of the Flavershams. Then, beaming with joy, she told Olivia, "Wait'll you see what's inside it, my dear!" And the mouseling could hardly wait to find out what treasures were stored in that trunk!

_(CUE MUSIC: "March" from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's "Idomeneo", as performed by Leonard Rosenman)_

After getting up out of the chair he'd been sitting in, Basil turned to address the Flavershams with a broad smile on his face. To Olivia, he said happily, "Now, my dear Miss Flaversham...no _hip_ young lady can go about without wearing clothes that are fashionable these days." He chuckled, then continued, "One needs to travel in style...yet still wear clothes that make her feel comfortable on the inside & the outside." As Basil was saying this, he gestured to the trunk, & Olivia crawled out of Hiram's lap, before running over to it. When Mrs. Judson opened the trunk for Olivia, the mouseling gazed upon its contents in absolute delight! Inside, she could see a wide variety of outfits—a fuschia silk nightgown with a matching hair-bow, a pink party dress with matching accessories (a garden-style hat, opera gloves, & a silk purse), a stylish fuschia bathrobe with matching slippers, a royal fuschia ball gown with matching shoes & accessories (silk gloves, a beaded necklace, & a hair-bow), a mint-turquoise blouse with periwinkle-blue bloomers, a purple one-piece swimsuit (with a frilly skirt, bloomers, puffy sleeves, & a big lavender bow in the front, along with a purple hair-bow to match), a lavender taffeta dress with matching shoes & accessories (leggings, a hair-bow, & a necklace), plenty of jewelry & ornaments...& then some! "So, Olivia, which outfit would you care to try on first?" Basil asked with a smile.

After thinking for a moment, Olivia took out the mint-turquoise blouse & periwinkle bloomers. "How about this, Basil?" she said.

"Excellent choice, Miss Flaversham!" Basil replied, giving Olivia an approving pat on the shoulder. Having selected the first outfit that she would try on, Olivia ducked into the closet to change...& within a few moments, she came back out, now dressed in her blouse & bloomers. After emerging from the closet in her new ensemble, Olivia started to pose & model for everyone; the others couldn't help but gush & fawn in absolute adoration when they saw her!

"Oh, Olivia, you look so adorable in that outfit!" Hiram praised his daughter.

Clasping her paws together near her head, a smiling Mrs. Judson said, "You'll be the life of the party at school! All your friends will be complimenting you, & telling you how pretty you look!"

"Well, I must say, Basil...Olivia is becoming quite a beautiful young lady," Dr. Dawson commented, turning to face his comrade with a smile.

"Yes," Basil replied, nodding his head in agreement. "Yes, she is, Dawson..."

And Olivia's fashion show had only just begun! After modeling in her blouse & bloomers, the mouseling did the same with the fuschia nightwear, the pink party outfit, the fuschia bathrobe & slippers, the fuschia ball outfit, the purple swimwear, the lavender church outfit, & several other ensembles of clothing—each prettier than the last. When Olivia finished posing in the last outfit from the costume trunk, she went up to take a few bows & curtsies for her audience, who showered her with applause.

"Ah, well-done, Olivia!" Basil marveled.

"Jolly good show, Miss Flaversham!" Dr. Dawson complimented.

"Yeah!" Fidget cheered, as he pumped a wing into the air. "All right!"

"_Très __magnifique__, Mademoiselle Olivia!_" Ratigan exclaimed in French, clapping & praising the little Scotsmouse with his usual extravagance. "_Bravo! Bravo! Encore!_"

After taking a few more bows & curtsies for her adoring fans, Olivia ducked back into the closet to change into her regular "indoor" attire, & once she had handed the recently-worn outfit to Basil (who placed it back in the trunk), Olivia climbed up onto Hiram's lap...but not without hugging Basil, & thanking him for taking the time to purchase all those wonderful new clothes for her. Basil, of course, told the girl that she was quite welcome, & that he was all-too-glad to buy the garments (some of which, he added, had been custom-made—tailored especially for Olivia!). After saying this, Basil asked, "Now, would you like me to show you to your new rooms?"

"Yes," replied Olivia, Hiram, Cousin Timmy, Ratigan, & Fidget in unison.

"All right!" Basil exclaimed, before taking Cousin Timmy by the paw. "Timothy..."

Trying not to act annoyed, the lad gently interrupted, "Excuse me, Mr. Basil, but could you please call me 'Timmy'? I like _that_ a lot better."

"Certainly, Timmy," Basil said, making sure to emphasize the name. "If you'll just follow me, I'll take you to your...fursonal quarters, as it were." With that, Cousin Timmy accompanied Basil on the short walk from Mrs. Judson's room to the last room on the west side of the third-floor hallway. Upon opening the door to his new chambers, Cousin Timmy took a look inside. The walls of the bedroom were painted a gentle lavender, & the floor was covered in deep-purple carpet. Resting against the north wall, were two large white chests (both of which were empty). A comfortable bed (made out of a lilac mattress with purple pillows, a white mahogany headboard, lilac sheets, & a warm, fuzzy purple blanket) stood at the center of the west wall; a small white nightstand with drawers of stuff was on the left side of the bed, its top surface void of any decorations. On the east wall, next to the door (& directly across from the foot of the bed), was a big-screen TV that stood on a white bureau of empty dresser-drawers. On the south wall of the room, there was a door leading into a closet, a white wooden bookcase with empty shelves, & a small white table with matching chairs (which stood in the southwest corner).

"Oh, my gosh..." Cousin Timmy managed to mouth, but Basil took his astonishment for disappointment: "I will admit, Timmy, I took a lot of liberties with designing the spare rooms. I didn't know how many fursons would be coming over to stay at my house, let alone how many boys & girls would be lodging, so forgive me if the room is a little too effeminate for your tastes. If you'd like, I can set you up in another room down the hall..."

"Nah, it's cool!" Cousin Timmy replied pleasantly, as he ran over to his bed, & flopped down onto the mattress. "I like this room just fine!"

"Oh, well, all right," Basil said nonchalantly. "On a sidenote, I didn't know you loved the color purple so much..."

"Are you kidding?" Cousin Timmy blurted out excitedly. "It's one of my Top 5 favorite colors! Heck, it's my most favorite color _ever_—_period__!_"

"What are your other top favorite colors?" Basil wondered aloud. "Just out of curiosity."

"Hmm, let's see," Cousin Timmy said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Then, counting on each of his fingers, he answered, "After purple, there's white, pink, red, & yellow. But I also like golden, cream, blue, violet, cornflower, fuschia, rose, scarlet, beige, crimson, strawberry, silver, lavender, lilac, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera...Oh, speaking of lavender & lilac, those are two of my favorite flowers, but I love roses the most. Want me to go on, or should I stop here?"

"Oh, no, by all means, pray continue!" Basil replied politely. "I'm quite interested in learning about you, Timmy."

"OK!" Cousin Timmy said. "So here's some other information about me: I'm fluent in French, Spanish, & Latin, but I'd like to learn a bunch of other languages—especially German. I'm fond of playing the piano...although I haven't taken lessons in a few years. I like the touch of lace, silk, & satin. I love all kinds of fruit, but I absolutely _hate_ vegetables! I'm single, but eagerly seeking. I enjoy reading female-empowering materials, & several women are on my list of famous historical figures. I also enjoy certain activities of a feminine nature, including—but not limited to—playing with dolls, sewing, painting, sketching, gardening, & writing in diaries...& I am not ashamed to admit that. I'm Catholic, but not an orthodox follower. [15] My blood type is O+. My favorite game is checkers, & I've won several trophies for winning tournaments, including the coveted 'King Me' award...And that's all the important stuff."

"My goodness, Timmy," Basil finally remarked, "you certainly are a very interesting young mouse. I didn't know you had such..."—he paused to think of a good word to use—"..._unusual_ tastes & hobbies—& I mean 'unusual' in the nice sense of the word."

"Don't we _all_ have unusual tastes & hobbies, Mr. Basil?" Cousin Timmy asked with a coy smile. "Don't we all?"

"Yes, I suppose that's true," Basil replied, unable to stop a smirk of amusement from appearing on his face. "Even the most famous of rodents will have their fursonal eccentricities & idiosyncrasies. After all, I have my strange tendencies to play the violin at odd hours of the evening, engage in weird—& often malodorous—scientific experiments, & do target practice indoors, among others. I've also had a bad habit of being incredibly untidy...though I've been trying to work on that in the last couple of months. Leaving the house in a constant mess is not something a normal rodent would do."

"Mr. Basil," Cousin Timmy said bluntly, "you are anything _but_ normal."

"That's also true," Basil retorted playfully, "but if you're going to have rodents staying in your home, you need to achieve _some_ degree of tidiness. Not just for purposes of cleanliness, mind you, but also for safety reasons, when you have fire hazards & whatnot to consider..."

"'_Fire_ hazards'?" Cousin Timmy repeated, suddenly feeling a bit nervous.

Basil was quick to pat the young mouse on the shoulder, however, as he assured him, "Oh, don't worry, Timmy. In all the years my family has lived in this building, there hasn't been a single fire, & I've yet to learn of any that happened before my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather moved here in 1581. [16] And with the sprinkler system & fire extinguishers I've recently installed, our house is sure to remain fire-free!"

"Well, that makes me feel a lot better," Cousin Timmy said, instantly perking up. "So, you said something about indoor target practice...Can you show me?"

"Perhaps later, Timmy," Basil replied. "Right now, I think I ought to help your relatives get settled in."

"OK, you do that," Cousin Timmy said contentedly. "I'll just stay here, & enjoy my nice room..." With that, Timmy flopped back down onto his bed...&, from what Basil could tell, he appeared to be quite enjoying it—so much, in fact, that he began bouncing up & down on the mattress! Unable to hold back a chuckle, Basil continued to watch Cousin Timmy while he made his way to the door, & after he stepped outside (& shut the aforementioned door behind him), he went back to Mrs. Judson's room, where Hiram, Dr. Dawson, Olivia, Ratigan, Fidget, & the mousekeeper were still lounging around.

"Now, Mr. Flaversham," Basil said as he took Hiram by the paw, "if you'll follow me down to the second floor, I'll show you to your new living quarters." With that, the toymaker & the detective exited Mrs. Judson's room, went down the staircase to the second story of the house, & approached the door to the center room on the west side of the hallway. When Basil & Hiram entered the chamber, the latter was surprised to see how it looked! Hiram's new bedroom / workshop was very large (which was a good thing, considering that he needed plenty of space to do his work in). The walls were painted a cheery chartreuse, & the carpet was a bright olive-green. A closet of clothes & old things, along with the Flavershams' large family portrait, was on the north wall, & a small, simple bed (made out of a white mattress with a white pillow, a mahogany headboard, white sheets, & a warm, fuzzy crimson blanket) rested below a big square window (flanked on either side by large fuschia curtains with golden draw-tassels) on the west wall. An oaken bureau of dresser-drawers (filled with tools & other toymaking supplies) rested on the south wall. A large wooden table with a small stool sat in the center of the room, & rows of blank shelves decorated each of the 4 walls.

_My goodness, _Hiram marveled to himself, _Basil had my room all planned out! He even bought new furniture for me! But he didn't __have__ to go through all this trouble, & yet...& yet...he was kind enough to do it, anyway. I should tell him "thanks"..._Turning to face his friend with a grateful look in his eyes, Hiram said, "Before you go, Basil, I just want to say 'thank you' for your hospitality & everything. You've really worked hard to make us feel welcome here, & I don't know how Olivia, Timmy, & I can possibly repay you for your kindness to us!"

"Oh, don't worry about it, Hiram," Basil replied warmly. "It was my sincerest pleasure to do this for you." Then, turning to make his way upstairs, he added, "Well, I'll leave you to get settled in, & I hope to see you again sometime this evening." With that, Basil departed, & Hiram stepped into his room, continuing to stare at its interior in sheer awe; even when he went to sit down on the mattress of his bed, he couldn't tear his gaze away from the furniture, walls, & carpet that had been so meticulously arranged. _Boy, Basil sure knows how to fursonalize a place! How did he know that chartreuse & olive-green were two of my favorite colors?_

* * *

Having decided to show Olivia her room later on in the evening—as a surprise—Basil went to lead Ratigan & Fidget out of Mrs. Judson's room next. "All right," the detective told the ex-criminals as he escorted them through the third-floor corridor, "there are 4 spare bedrooms—2 on the third story, & 2 on the second story. Which would you like to occupy?"

"Probably one on the second story," Ratigan replied. "It'd be a bit less cumbersome to get downstairs."

"Yeah," Fidget agreed, "I t'ink a room on the second floor would be good."

"Very well, then," Basil said, & he led Ratigan & Fidget down the stairs to the aforementioned floor, bringing them to the last room on the west side of the hallway. Upon opening the door, Basil, Ratigan, & Fidget took a look at the place where the latter two would be lodging. It was a simple bedroom with sky-blue walls & a dark-blue carpet; on the east wall, a mahogany table (supporting a large TV with a remote control) was positioned between the main door & the door to a closet, with plenty of extra space surrounding it. The north wall was void of any furniture or trappings, but on the west wall, resting underneath a large square window (flanked on either side by large fuschia curtains with golden draw-tassels), was a huge bed (which sported a light-blue mattress adorned with a white pillow, a mahogany headboard, light-blue sheets, & a warm, fuzzy blue blanket). A mahogany nightstand with a lamp & alarm clock on its surface was to the left of the bed. In the southeast corner of the room, there was a small refrigerator, & a large bookcase & toy chest (both of which were empty) rested against the south wall.

"Well, it's a lot more humbly-decorated than I imagined it would be," Ratigan finally said, "but I'm not going to look a gift dog in the mouth. [17] This room will do just fine...& I'm sure it'll be even _nicer_, once I add some decorations & whatnot to liven up the place!"

"Yeah," Fidget muttered, nodding his head in assent. "Just one problem, t'ough..._Where da heck am I goin' ta sleep? I don't got no freakin' bed!_"

"Had I known I would also be inviting certain _rogues_ into my home," Basil muttered under his breath, "I would have made some additional arrangements..."

When his ears perked up to the sound of the emphasized word (his hearing was just as acute as Basil's), Ratigan immediately dropped his & Fidget's valises to the floor, & turned to face Basil with an affronted glower. "I beg your pardon!" Ratigan ejaculated indignantly, planting his gloved paws on his hips. "Did you suddenly forget that discussion we had about my change in lifestyle?"

"And did you suddenly forget the words 'I still don't trust you'?" Basil retorted huffily. "In any case, I have some important topics to discuss with you, so kindly refrain from inserting your input until I am finished speaking. First, let us lay out the ground rules of this house, which I expect you & Fidget to follow while you are living here. Rule #1: Do your best not to leave a mess, & pick up after yourselves. Rule #2: Bedtime is to be no later than 11:00 PM, except on holidays & special occasions. Rule #3: Food & beverage may be consumed in your room, but—again—do your best to be tidy, & dispose of your garbage & leftovers in the proper receptacles. Rule #4: If you play any media after 10:30 PM, keep the volume down low, so as not to cause a disturbance. Rule #5: If you are using any smoking products, be sure to extinguish them thoroughly when you are done. Rule #6: Refrain from making frivolous calls or unauthorized orders on the telephone. Rule #7: Refrain from using my credit cards or money, unless you are given my _express_ permission to do so. Rule #8: Don't throw any wild parties. Rule #9: Use your best manners around company. And Rule #10: Don't touch any dangerous items in my study room—including, but not limited to, chemicals, poisons, & weapons. Do you think you shall have any trouble complying with these rules?"

"Not at all," Ratigan replied earnestly, shaking his head in negation, as Fidget did the same.

"Good," said Basil, & he continued: "Next, I shall outline to you & Fidget the behavior I expect from both of you. I expect you to treat everyone in this house with kindness & respect. I expect you to show consideration for other fursons' property. I expect you to be gracious, courteous, & polite to your fellow lodgers, & anyone else who may be staying here. I expect you to be on your best behavior at all times. And last, but not least, I expect you to not only follow _my_ rules, but also the rule of the law. Do I make myself clear?"

"Absolutely!" Ratigan & Fidget replied in unison, nodding their heads in affirmation.

"All right, then," Basil declared. "The last thing I wish to discuss with you is the consequences for disobedience & wrongdoing. Now, depending on various factors & circumstances, there will be different forms of penalty for infraction of a rule. These include—but are not limited to—extra house chores, early curfew, early bedtime, denial of privileges, no dessert after dinner, no leisurely trips, no allowance, denial of fursonal rewards, no visiting with friends, & enforced confinement in your room for a maximum of 15 minutes. And commission of a mousedemeanor or felony will result in you being reported to the police at the earliest possible opportunity. Is that understood?"

"Yes," Ratigan & Fidget answered together, bobbing their heads up & down once more to indicate that they were willing to comply with Basil's rules.

"So be it," Basil said, as the look on his face became solemn & stern. "Now, I need not remind you that I am going out of my way to be generous by allowing you to stay here—when other fursons would most certainly have bolted their front doors, & notified Mouseland Yard of your whereabouts in an instant! However, to be perfectly frank, I can't help but feel a little iffy about my decision to let you into my home...for I still have my doubts as to the veracity of your claims of reformation. In my long career as a mouse detective, I've come across my fair share of thieves, vandals, & other petty offenders who were desperate to turn over a new leaf...& did so. But I can never recall meeting a criminal who desired to reform _after_ eagerly engaging in an 8-year-long crime spree that was marked by innumerable acts of downright depravity & degeneracy. And when you also consider the fact that you have made a good deal of threats against my life—& have even gone so far as to actually act out on them—you can see why I do not totally believe your declaration that you & Fidget have changed your ways. I hope you understand that."

"I do," Ratigan responded sincerely, "& I don't blame you for not believing us. If _we_ were in _your_ shoes, I can honestly say that we'd feel the same way."

"Is that so?" Basil replied, raising a dubious eyebrow.

"Yes," Ratigan said with a nod of his head. "But I promise you, Basil, you _won't_ regret having taken us in. In fact..."—a coy twinkle appeared in his eyes—"...Fidget & I are willing to make a deal with you."

"And what would that be?" Basil wondered aloud.

"Well, it's like this," Ratigan explained. "Let's say that if Fidget & I remain on our best behavior, & don't get in any trouble, we may be allowed to stay with you & the others at Lower 221B Baker Street. _But_—& here's the catch—if Fidget &/or I commit a crime, or we otherwise return to our evil ways, you have my full permission to kick us out of your house..._&_ turn us in to Mouseland Yard!" Then, extending an outstretched paw towards Basil, he asked, "So, what do you think? Does that sound like a fair deal to you?"

It only took a moment for Basil to make his decision, & as he shook hands with Ratigan, he answered, "Most certainly!" When Basil & Ratigan finally drew their paws away from each other, the detective added, "I have to admit, Ratigan, you set some rather heavy conditions for that proposal."

"Well, I wouldn't have done so if I wasn't being sincere about it," Ratigan replied. "Even a detective of your intelligence ought to know that. I mean, let's face it—if I were still evil, making a deal like that with you would be like making a deal with the devil...or would that be 'a deal with _God_'? Ah, well, no matter; you see my point, right?"

"I suppose I do," Basil said, nodding his head.

"That's good to know," Ratigan remarked with a pleasant smile. "Well, you can leave us alone now. Fidget & I need to unpack, & we'll need a few extra hours to get settled into our new quarters. I guess we'll meet up with you again at around dinnertime—oh, when is that, by the way?"

"6:00 PM," Basil answered, as he turned to make his way to the door.

"All right, then," Ratigan said, as he & Fidget began opening their valises, removing their contents, & sorting them out on the floor. "See you later, Basil."

With that, Basil exited the room, & began walking down the second-floor hallway, now pondering over the conundrum of how Fidget would be able to sleep in his new home. Since bats usually liked to sleep upside-down, Basil would need to make a special bed for Fidget...but not to worry! He could probably make one out of stuff from the upstairs attic, like a hammock—yes, a hammock would be _perfect_ for Fidget's bed! Basil could hang it from the ceiling, wrap it up so that it was fashioned like a cocoon, & stuff it with blankets & pillows. Hopefully, he could get it done after dinner tonight, so Fidget wouldn't have to sleep on the couch or chaise lounge downstairs...

No sooner did Basil decide to do that, than his thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he felt the sensation of bumping into somebody. After taking a jump back, Basil looked down, & saw little Olivia standing at his feet. The mouseling gazed up at the detective with her usual cheery smile, a happy twinkle in her bright blue eyes. "Hello again, Basil," she greeted. "What are you up to?"

"Oh, nothing much, really," Basil answered. "I was just taking your father & cousin to their rooms, & Mrs. Judson is putting your new clothes away. It'll be a few hours before dinnertime, & I was hoping to take you to your room after we ate, so you won't know where any of your stuff is until then...I'm sorry for the inconvenience. It's just that I wanted your room to be, well, a surprise..."

"That's OK, Basil," Olivia replied in her typical easygoing manner. "I like surprises!"

"Oh, that's good to know," Basil remarked, relieved that Olivia wasn't mad at him or anything like that. "I just hope you have something to keep you occupied until supper."

"Well, there is some stuff in the suitcase I brought with me when I came in," Olivia said. "And I also have my dancing doll that I got for my birthday back in July...Oh, have you ever seen it?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Basil answered, shaking his head in negation.

"Come with me, & I'll show it to you!" Olivia said, beckoning for Basil to follow her downstairs. The sleuth walked after the little girl, accompanying her on her descent down the staircase, & once they made it to the first floor, Olivia went over to the large purple couch, where her suitcase now lay open. Among the things Basil could see in the valise were crayons, a coloring book, some small toys, a couple of children's novels, a little board game, & what looked like a fuschia blossom with a golden wind-up key on the side. Olivia took the toy flower into her paws, then sat down on the floor, as Basil took a seat across from her. "Watch what happens when I do this!" Olivia told Basil in an excited whisper, as she placed the lily in front of her, & wound up the key. To Basil's amazement, the fuschia flower's petals unfolded to reveal a white-furred ballerina mouse, which slowly rose up onto her petite feet, & started to perform an arabesque...but, unfortunately, the tiny dancer got her right shoe caught on the carpet, & she fell flat on her side, wiggling her legs about in the air for a few seconds, before finally returning to her blossom form.

"Oops," Olivia said, looking down at the toy fuschia with a sheepish smile. "I guess we're gonna need a smoother surface."

"Not to worry, dear," Basil said with an encouraging grin, as he took the flower into his paws, got up, & began to make his way across the living room, with Olivia following suit. "The dining table should suit our purposes!"

After approaching the north side of the living room, where the entrances to the kitchen & dining room were, Basil opened the door to the latter chamber, & he & Olivia stepped inside. The dining room (which was to the right of the kitchen) had a dark-turquoise carpet, & all the walls were painted a solid lavender, with white floor-molding going all along the bottom of these walls. In the center of the room, there rested a large, long mahogany table, surrounded by mahogany chairs with violet-colored silk padding (there were enough of these chairs to seat 18 rodents); a centerpiece (comprised of a multicolored array of faux fruit in a blue china bowl) lay in the middle of the table. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, & pretty pieces of art adorned the walls. Awed by the beauty of all the decorations, Olivia couldn't help but gaze around the dining room in a state of childlike wonder, until her ears perked up to the sound of Basil pulling out two of the chairs surrounding the table. After going to take her seat in one chair (with Basil sitting across from her in the other one), Olivia took the toy blossom out of Basil's paws, & wound up the key once more. "Watch," the little Scotsmouse said in a hushed tone. The two mice gazed on with rapt stares, as the fuschia flower transformed into the ballerina mouse, & began to dance across the surface of the table, with Olivia's favorite song playing in her built-in music box.

"My heavens, Olivia," Basil remarked in astonishment, "it's absolutely amazing!"

"I know," Olivia said dreamily, watching the dancing doll with a faraway look in her eyes. "It's the best toy my daddy ever made for me...And even when you look at it up close, you can hardly tell it's been fixed."

"Oh, it got broken?" Basil asked.

"Yes," Olivia answered, slowly nodding her head (while still watching the ballerina carry on with her performance). "I don't know exactly what happened to it, but I guess it doesn't really matter now..."

For the next few minutes, Basil & Olivia did not say anything, but continued to gaze at the dancing doll, as she whirled, twirled, plied, & pirouetted across the table, performing her lifelike moves with gracefulness & fluidity of motion that rivaled those of the finest dancer in the Royal Ballet Troupe. Only when the music box's tinny lullaby finally finished playing, did the ballerina end her dance with a deep bow, & after the doll had transformed back into a fuschia flower, Olivia & Basil continued their conversation with one another. [18] "So, where are Ratigan & Fidget?" Olivia asked the older mouse.

"They're getting settled into their new room on the second floor," Basil replied, before switching the focus of the talk to a thought that had crossed his mind a few times: "Speaking of the devil, as it were, I've kind of been wondering why you haven't been showing an adverse reaction to their presence."

"You mean, like, freaking out or something?" Olivia said. "Well, I only did it the first time they showed up, but when they came into the house, I didn't feel scared around them."

"Oh, why is that?" Basil inquired.

"Because I knew that they wouldn't hurt me or my family & friends," Olivia replied innocently. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have let them in. Something _must_ have happened to Ratigan & Fidget...something that made them change!"

"Perhaps so," Basil said with some hesitancy, while nodding his head in agreement.

"And now that I think about it," Olivia said thoughtfully as she picked up her toy lily, "maybe it was Ratigan & Fidget who saved us from those muggers..."

"Wait, what muggers?" Basil questioned quizzically, now becoming intensely interested.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you," Olivia replied. "On our way to your house, while we were driving down Westerly Road, this pair of mean muggers hijacked our car, & forced Daddy, Cousin Timmy, & me to get out. Then, they grabbed us, & tried to steal our stuff from the fleet of moving vans that was traveling with us...but Ratigan managed to distract the muggers, & they ran away..." Olivia gasped when she realized what this meant to her. "Ratigan & Fidget _saved_ me & my family! They _did_ change into good rodents! I just know it!"

Basil didn't know how to react to Olivia's comment. On one hand, Olivia was still a child—granted, a very smart & intelligent one, but not entirely free of the ingenuousness that usually characterized her current stage of life. She had yet to learn about the ways of the world, & she didn't seem to understand that she couldn't always trust everything her eyes saw...yet she was thoroughly _convinced_ that her assumptions were true! Something inside Olivia told her that Ratigan & Fidget were not the same fursons they used to be...but was it blind naivety that led her to make that conclusion, or was it a sense of the inner workings of a rodent's soul? Basil had no way to tell for sure; he could only hope that Olivia was right. At the same time, though, the mouseling's words prompted the detective to wonder if, maybe, his earlier suspicions about Ratigan & Fidget might have been wrong...

* * *

_(CUE MUSIC: "Arioso With Cello & Piano", by Johann Sebastian Bach)_

Nighttime had now fallen over Mouse London. The stars shined brightly in the clear, cloudless, midnight-blue skies, & the full moon cast a pale glow over Baker Street, illuminating the houses that lined the pavements with its heavenly radiance. In the hallway on the second floor of Lower 221B, Basil (dressed in his robe, tie, & other house apparel) was leading Olivia (dressed in her fuschia silk nightgown with the matching hair-bow) down to the last room on the east side of the corridor, which was right across from Ratigan & Fidget's quarters. As Basil escorted Olivia through the passageway, holding the mouseling by the paw, the detective said with a smile, "So, Miss Fl..."—he corrected himself—"...Olivia, I think you're really going to enjoy your new room that I set up for you."

"You set up a whole room for me?" Olivia asked, looking up at Basil with an excited expression.

"Yes, indeed," Basil replied, nodding his head in affirmation. When he & Olivia finally reached the end of the hallway, & approached the entrance to Olivia's room, Basil added sheepishly, "Though I will admit I'm not really the best..."—ahem—"...when it comes to interior decorating." Upon saying this, Basil opened the door, & Olivia took a look at the interior of her fursonal chambers. The walls were painted a bright coral-pink, & the carpet was a bright fuschia. A large round window was on the south wall, flanked on either side by large fuschia curtains with golden draw-tassels. The window-seat below it was a mahogany bench (which was covered with fuschia plush padding, & decorated with pink & hot-pink pillows). A large fuschia chaise lounge stood in the southwest corner, its lower end pointing towards the window. On the west wall, by the higher end of the chaise lounge, Olivia's armoire & closet stood near the door. On the other side of the door, next to a tiny night-light, was a large bookcase (the shelves of which were filled with Olivia's books & periodicals, along with some of her pictures & mementos). Across from it, on the north wall, was a large desk that held Olivia's diary, a few framed photos, a drawing board, some sketchbooks & scrap-journals, a small lamp, & a brightly-colored paw-made jar full of writing tools.

A large canopy bed with coral-pink mattresses & matching bedsheets & pillows, large fuschia curtains (with golden draw-tassels) on all four sides (attached to the fuschia canopy), fuschia blankets, white linens, & reddish-brown mahogany bedposts (with a headboard of the same color & material) rested with one side on the east wall. A rocking chair was close to the bedside, with a rainbow rug laid out in front of it in the center of the room. At the southeast corner of the room, in front of the canopy bed (& to the left of the window), were a large color TV & remote that rested on top of a small dresser. All around the chamber, a pawful of pretty drawings & paintings of Olivia's favorite things were displayed upon the walls (a number of these pictures had been done by the mouseling herself, & placed in the empty space of wall above the desk; all of Olivia's other artworks were safely stored in the desk's drawers, as well as in a large trunk in the hollow underneath the desk). Olivia's numerous boxes, bags, & chests of toys & games were scattered in different parts of the room, & her remaining possessions were stored in other places.

As she stepped into her new living quarters, Olivia appeared to be quite delighted with her lodging accommodations; Basil, however, still acted awkwardly about it. Drumming his fingers together, & tugging at his white shirt collar, Basil said with a sheepish grin, "I hope the room's not too...pink for you."

"Oh, no, Basil. It's perfectly fine," Olivia said, turning to face Basil with a pleasant smile. "Besides, pink is one of my favorite colors...especially when it's _fuschia_-pink." With that, Olivia scampered off, looking around the bedroom in fascination.

Trying vainly to hide the smile on his own face as he watched Olivia, Basil replied, "Well, I made sure to put plenty of..._fuschia_-pink in, as well. But in any case, I'm glad that you're happy & satisfied with your..."

Just before Basil could finish the sentence, Olivia turned to face the detective, & smiled at him again, before quickly going over to hug him. "I want to thank you, Basil, for doing all this for me," Olivia told the older mouse, as she wrapped her little arms around his legs. "Not just the room, I mean...but also for letting me & Daddy..."

"Don't forget your favorite cousin!" a certain mouseling yelled from his room upstairs.

"...& Cousin Timmy...come to stay with you," Olivia continued. "You've done so much to make our lives better in these dark times...& I honestly don't know how I can repay you for it."

"You don't need to repay me, Olivia," Basil said tenderly. "It's the least I can do for you...my dear friend."

Olivia could hardly believe her ears. Basil had actually called her his friend! He now considered Olivia to be something more than a client or acquaintance...He viewed her as a confidant, a companion, a comrade! To Olivia, this was a sign that the relationship between her & Basil had greatly changed in the last few months...&, now, she was beginning to see why Basil was so eager to help her & her family, & to make them feel comfortable in their new home. That was the kind of thing friends did for each other...Olivia was so touched by Basil's confession, that her eyes brimmed with tears of joy, which gently rolled down her face. With his thumb, Basil brushed a few tears off of Olivia's cheek, & as soon as he did so, he saw the mouseling smiling up at him once again—this time, in her usual happy way. "There we go," Basil said warmly, patting Olivia's cheek in a fatherly manner. "Well, I think it's best we get along to bed now."

With that, Olivia scurried over to her canopy bed, & jumped joyfully onto the mattress, before landing on her back...& relaxing, as she let her weary arms lie spread out beside her, her legs & feet dangling over the bedside. Trying not to laugh at Olivia's antics (but having a hard time keeping it in), Basil said, "No, Olivia, not that way..." Olivia then crawled under the covers, but instead of lying down, she peeked out from under the comforter. "Struggling" to keep himself from laughing, Basil said, "Try again, dear..." Olivia crawled out from under the covers, & lay down on her back, but she wiggled her feet about wildly beneath the blankets. By this point, Basil couldn't contain his amusement any longer. "Come here, you!" the detective said, as he rushed over, & sat down on the bedside...before leaning over, & tickling Olivia! He did this for several minutes, even to the point where Olivia rolled over on her side, & curled into a ball, clutching her sides as she laughed & giggled with hysterical glee.

After a while, Basil finally stopped tickling Olivia, & the mouseling settled down, but her face continued to sport that merry expression, as she breathed slowly for air, & turned over to lie down on her back. Olivia looked up at Basil with yet another smile, & Basil returned the gesture, as he tucked in her covers, & said, "All right, Olivia..._now_, you go to bed." A beat of silence passed, before Basil added, "But before you do, I have one more surprise for you today." Olivia's smile widened when she heard this! "Close your eyes, dear," Basil said, & Olivia covered her little peepers with her paws. Then, Basil leaned over to reach for something, & came back with a smiling teddy bear in his hands. Holding the stuffed animal in front of Olivia, Basil cried in a sing-song voice, "Ta-da!"

Olivia opened her eyes, & fawned in delight when she saw her latest present. As soon as Basil handed Olivia the teddy bear, the little Scotsmouse instantly started cuddling it; it appeared that she had already taken quite a liking to the toy. "My, erm, deduction skills told me you would be most fond of it," Basil said.

"I am, Basil," Olivia replied, snuggling the teddy bear. "He's so cute & cuddly."

"I said the same thing when I held him in my arms at night," Basil remarked in a tender tone-of-voice. "You see, that teddy bear belonged to me when I was a young mouseling around your age...&, now, I'm giving it to you." [19]

As if Olivia couldn't have been made to feel any more astonished than she was before, the words she had just heard, prompted the little lass to gaze at Basil with wide eyes & a jaw that hung open in pleasant surprise. "Really? You mean it, Basil?" Olivia exclaimed, overcome with joy. "Oh, thank you so much!"

Unable to contain her overwhelming feelings of heartfelt happiness, Olivia quickly wrapped her arms around Basil's waist, & hugged him tightly. Basil smiled, & gently returned the hug, as he said, "It's no problem at all, dear." Then, once he & Olivia had parted from their embrace, Basil helped the girl lie back down, & tucked in her covers once more...before placing the teddy bear at Olivia's side. "There," Basil said pleasantly. "I think you two will have a most excellent slumber tonight."

With that, Basil got up off the bed, & prepared to leave the room, but he stopped in his tracks when Olivia suddenly held up a paw, & called out, "Wait!" Upon hearing this, Basil immediately returned to Olivia, & sat back down on her bedside. Looking down nervously, but occasionally glancing up shyly at Basil, as she squeezed her paws together, Olivia said, "Um...I don't want to be a bother, Basil, but, um...usually, just before I go to sleep, Daddy sings me a lullaby, or reads me a bedtime story. But he's asleep right now, & I don't want to wake him up."

"I can't really blame your father, Olivia," Basil said offhandedly. "He's had a very long day today."

"So, um...if it's all right with you," Olivia asked a little nervously, "would you mind, um...well...maybe telling me a bedtime story, or something like that?"

_A bedtime story?_ Basil couldn't believe what Olivia was asking him to do! Everything up to this point had been fairly easy for the detective...but, now, he had come across a real challenge! "Well," Basil replied hesitantly, "I don't usually make up _bedtime_ stories...at least, not very good ones...but I guess I could try." He softly cleared his throat, then began: "Once upon a time—that's how bedtime stories usually begin, right?—there was, hmm...let's see...a princess named Olivia...who, um...um...was kidnapped by a fire-breathing dragonfly..." A beat. "No, no, that's silly. Dragonflies don't breathe fire. Then again, they aren't usually known to kidnap princesses...much less for being ferocious..." After a thought, Basil continued, "Well, I suppose _dragons _would be a more likely suspect—I mean, villain! But to be frightfully honest, I'm fursonally not too sure that dragons actually exist...At least, as far as I know. But I suppose I could be wrong; perhaps, there _are _dragons flying about somewhere, breathing fire, & kidnapping princesses, & whatnot..." [20]

Basil's voice trailed off, however, when he saw Olivia sporting a jaded look on her face; his attempts at telling a twilight tale had certainly not yielded successful results. _If I'm going to have mouselings in the house, I'll need to get used to a lot of things—like telling bedtime stories, for one! Maybe, I can get some pointers from the parents who live in the neighboring houses...Oh, how I wish I'd thought about that in the first place! _"Well, as I've said, Olivia," Basil said sheepishly, "bedtime stories aren't really my strong suit...but I know what is!"

Basil quickly got up, & exited the room, as Olivia watched him leave. A few minutes later, Basil came back in, & sat down in the rocking chair at the side of the bed, clutching his prized—& newly-repaired—violin. Upon noticing this, Olivia exclaimed excitedly, "You got your violin fixed!"

"Yes, indeed, I did," Basil said. Then, tuning the instrument, he added, "Although it does sound a bit out-of-tune on the fourth string...I suppose I'll need to get a new one...but..."—ahem—"...anyway..." Leaning back in the rocking chair, Basil closed his eyes, tucked the lower end of the violin under his chin, put the bow to the strings, & started to play a soothing lullaby for Olivia, who lay down under the covers, & began to relax, still cuddling her teddy bear. As he played the peaceful melody on his violin, Basil sang in a rich baritone voice...

_(CUE SONG: "Basil's Lullaby")_

_**Hush-a-bye, mouseling, close your eyes  
**__**And listen to my lullaby  
**__**Drift away on clouds of white  
**__**To Dreamland, love, & sleep for the night**_

_**Be at peace, mouseling, have no fear  
**__**Nothing can hurt you while I am here  
**__**I'll be there all night to stay by your side,  
**__**And, sweet little angel, with you, I'll abide**_

_**Rest your head & fall asleep  
**__**Into a slumber so peaceful & deep  
**__**May your rest be oh-so serene  
**__**As you hear my gentle voice sing**_

_**Hush-a-bye, mouseling, close your eyes  
**__**And listen to my lullaby  
**__**Drift away on clouds of white  
**__**To Dreamland, love, & sleep for the night...**_

Before long, Olivia finally fell fast asleep. After carefully putting up his violin, Basil smiled at Olivia, before leaning over to kiss her on the forehead, & tuck in her covers. As he did so, the detective whispered tenderly, "Goodnight, Olivia. Pleasant dreams." Basil then leaned back into the rocking chair, & adjusted his furson enough so that he would be able to sleep comfortably. Then, with a clap of Basil's paws, the lights came off, plunging Olivia's bedroom in darkness. [21]

_(CUE MUSIC: Abridged version of "March To The Scaffold", from Hector Berlioz's "Symphonie Fantastique")_

For the next several minutes, Olivia & Basil both slept peacefully...but, at some point, Olivia began tossing & turning in bed, a troubled look appearing on her face. No doubt, the dreams that were filling her head, were not those of a pleasant sort...

* * *

_Olivia opened her eyes to find herself on a dingy-looking road in one of the poorer neighborhoods of Mouse London's East End. She was still dressed in her nightgown & hair-bow...but how did she get out of Basil's house, & end up here, in this miserable place? She needed to find someone who would give her directions to Baker Street, so she could get back home! No doubt, her family & friends were worried sick about her! With that in mind, Olivia cautiously began making her way down the filthy, lonely, desolate street; as she walked, a cold chill of howling wind stirred against Olivia, rustling the hem of her nightdress, & making her shiver occasionally. The once-starry skies were now covered in clouds—dark, menacing, & threatening to bring forth rain. And Olivia could have sworn she heard eerie, ghostly cries moaning & calling out to her...She quickened her pace, trying to find a way out of this scary place. (Oh, how she hoped she could get out of this wretched neighborhood soon!)_

_After walking a bit further down the road, Olivia suddenly gasped when her ears perked up to a loud clattering sound coming from a nearby alley. Her heart began to race, & she could feel her pulse accelerating with the adrenaline that was now surging through her veins. Her mind was consumed with terrifying thoughts of what could be lurking in the shadows, just waiting to come out & attack her...Then, the sound of angry yowling forced Olivia to stop in her tracks. Her eyes widened in absolute terror when she saw a big, mean-looking tomcat emerge from the adjoining alleyway. The cat took one look at Olivia...&, with yellow eyes that blazed with ravenous hunger, he began chasing after the frightened mouseling, who took to her heels, & ran as fast as she could. All the while, Olivia stared ahead of her, only looking for possible places to hide, only thinking of escaping the jaws of death that were nearing ever closer to her..._

_Finally, after much running, Olivia spotted another alleyway, & she went to hide among the garbage that littered its floor. Thankfully, the cat did not see her, & continued to run down the street, failing to realize that he had lost track of his prey. When she no longer heard the cat's footsteps, Olivia carefully emerged from the pile of trash, & stepped out into the open air...but her dangers were not over yet. Just when Olivia thought she was safe, she was suddenly approached by a large snake—a formidable, fearsome serpent with blood-red skin, cruel black eyes, & a forked tongue that flickered in & out, in & out..._

_The snake eyed Olivia lustfully, hissing as he approached her. Opening his fanged mouth wide, the snake attempted to take a bite out of Olivia's foot, but the mouseling darted away at the last second, making a break for the alley exit. Olivia proved to be too fast for the snake, so he decided not to chase her, & slithered away. When Olivia had seen the snake disappear in the same direction that the cat had gone, Olivia walked back into the now-empty alley, & sat down on a stray pebble, wondering how on Mouse Earth she was going to find her way back to Baker Street. She needed help, but who could she turn to in order to get it? Where could she go to find temporary shelter—a safe place to hide from all the dangerous things that wandered the East End highways & by-ways in the dark of the night?_

_Olivia became so lost in her thoughts, that she didn't notice the sound of footsteps approaching her slowly...ever-so-slowly...They were soft at first, but became increasingly louder & louder. Before Olivia even knew it, she was suddenly grabbed & ambushed by a gang of thugs! The villainous mice were of sordid appearance, & dressed in shabby clothing, with many of them holding a weapon of some sort; all of the hooligans leered at their newest victim with evil grins & cruel gazes._

_Olivia struggled fearfully in the thugs' grasp, trying desperately to break away from them—but, alas, to no avail! Despite all the kicks & punches she threw, the mouseling was eventually overpowered, & a few of the thugs managed to grab onto her wrists & ankles, immobilizing her. Then, another one of the ruffians stepped toward Olivia, & took out his weapon—a long dagger with a glimmering, gleaming blade made of the purest stainless steel...which wasn't to be stainless for much longer. Almost as quickly as he had produced it, the thug put the dagger to Olivia's neck, ready to slice it across her throat...& thus end her short life..._

* * *

In a matter of a split-second, the thugs & their weapons disappeared, & Olivia awakened in her bed with a gasp, suddenly snapping out of her terrifying dream. Panting for air, Olivia glanced fearfully around the room, trying to become aware of her surroundings, trying to assure herself that she had never left Basil's house...Then, at last, her racing heart began to slow its pace, & her pulse that had been raging so wildly like a runaway river, eased its flow again. But even though she had calmed down a little, Olivia was still haunted by the terrible monsters that had plagued her slumber. She could not shake away the feelings of immense terror that the nightmare had given her. She remained traumatized by the horrible scenarios that had played out in that awful vision...

_(CUE MUSIC: Abridged version of "String Quartet In G Minor", by Claude Debussy)_

Unable to cope with her ordeal, Olivia cuddled her teddy bear tightly, as tears fell from her eyes, & she started to cry gently. At this point, Basil (who had been sleeping in the rocking chair) stirred awake, his rest interrupted by what he initially thought was a strange sound; when he pulled back the curtains of the canopy bed, he was surprised to see Olivia sitting up beneath the blankets, crying into her paws. "Oh, poor Olivia, dear, what's the matter?" Basil asked compassionately, as he picked the distraught girl up out of her bed, & sat her down in his lap. "Is something wrong?"

After crying for a second or two (& sniffling), Olivia looked up at Basil with teary eyes, as she made her sorrowful reply: "I had a bad dream." Then, collapsing against Basil in her state of distress, Olivia continued crying, her hot tears staining the fabric of Basil's robe.

As he felt Olivia's tiny arms wrapping around him, Basil started to remember all the times when, during their first encounter, the detective had treated Olivia—the mouseling who he would come to consider as one of his friends!—in a not-so-friendly manner. He could not deny that he had been cold—even indifferent—to Olivia, at a time when she was in desperate need of emotional support & stability. When she sought comfort & consolation, he did not give it to her. When she needed a shoulder to cry on, or just someone to relate her problems to, he did not make himself available. But now that Olivia had helped him to become more sensitive & more open with his emotions (among other things), Basil didn't anticipate that he would have those problems anymore. In fact, he was quick to comfort Olivia, doing his best to ease her troubled spirit.

"Don't worry, Olivia, it's OK," Basil said tenderly, gently hugging the girl, as he patted her back with one paw, & caressed her fur-hair with the other. "Everything's all right." Olivia kept on sobbing, uncomforted, but Basil did not waver in his attempts to console her: "My sweet, I would never let anything terrible happen to you! You have nothing to worry about, dear. Everything will be OK...Shhh, it's going to be fine, angel." Basil gently kissed Olivia on the forehead & cheek to make her feel better, but the distressed child continued to cry. Patting Olivia on the back, & hugging her, Basil said reassuringly, "There, there...There, there...Hush, now, Olivia...Don't be scared...It's all right..." When his efforts to comfort Olivia proved to be in vain, Basil finally asked, "Why don't I sing you my lullaby again to help you feel better?"

Olivia sniffled, then took a moment to wipe at her nose with her paw, before sadly answering, "OK, Basil..." Olivia then tightened her embrace around Basil, who continued to gently pet Olivia, stroking her face & fur-hair, as he tenderly cradled her in his arms, swaying back & forth in the rocking chair. All the while, Basil kept on singing his lullaby to Olivia. During the first & second reprises of the song, Olivia gradually fell asleep again...but before her eyelids fluttered closed, she stopped crying, & formed a peaceful smile on her face. Basil's _berceuse_ had calmed Olivia, & helped to put her soul at ease, chasing away the dark monsters of her nightmares.

After watching Olivia sink back into untroubled slumber, Basil carefully lifted her out of his lap, & tucked her back into bed, placing her teddy bear at her side; he then gave Olivia one last hug, followed by a fatherly kiss on the nose. As Olivia continued to rest peacefully, snuggling under the covers, Basil sat at the mouseling's bedside, patting her head, & smiling down at her in an affectionate manner. For the next hour or so, Basil kept watch over Olivia, making sure that her sleep remained undisturbed by nightmares (although, in the event that she were to have another one, he would be there to comfort her again). When Olivia did not show any signs of having bad dreams, Basil finally decided to leave her side, but as he quietly tiptoed out of the bedroom, he continued to look at the dozing Olivia with that warm, kindly expression. Somehow, the Great Mouse Detective knew that taking the Flavershams in was the best way to help them out, & he had no regrets about allowing the family to lodge with him; it certainly helped bring him much closer to his friends! But for all his foresight, Basil couldn't even _begin_ to imagine what else would result in the aftermath of his fateful decision...

* * *

[1] Shortly before their collapse into poverty, the Flavershams purchased a television.

[2] In order to find potential customers for the Flavershams' toy shop, Mr. Altoid, Sophie, & other friends & neighbors of the family did thorough searches in the Mouse London Yellow Pages, & made a daily routine of calling every number listed, jotting down the name of each furson who accepted their offer to show support for the Flavershams' business.

[3] For those of you with curious minds, the full address on the envelope is:

**Basil Of Baker Street  
****Lower 221B Baker Street  
****Marylebone, Westminster, London, England, UK  
****13125-W1U**

Incidentally, in the United Mouse Kingdom, US & UK postal codes are combined together (e.g., "77665-E8", "32802-SW6", "90210-NW6", etc.). This is yet another one of the recent developments that came about during the Month Of Change. At the recommendation of Madame Ratburn & Anya, Queen Mousetoria ordered a reform of the United Mouse Kingdom's mail service, & a set of 5 numbers were added to the traditional 3-character codes. Each combination of these new numbers represents one of the different districts covered by the second half of the postal code. (For example, the ending W2 covers the Paddington, Bayswater, Hyde Park, & Westbourne Green districts of Mouse London; the 5-number combinations for each of these districts are 14017, 06200, 72434, & 61744, respectively.)

[4] Normally, only rodent pedestrians, promenaders, cyclists, vendors, & building owners or inhabitants may use the sidewalks, but exceptions may be made if one is traveling to a mouse building with a garage, carport, or driveway (such as Basil's house). In such cases, the pavements _can_ be used for automobile travel, as long as the driver sticks to quiet residential streets (or roads that do not usually have a lot of pedestrian activity), watches out for fursons who may be in the way, & takes great care to follow safety rules.

Additionally, if a furson should use the sidewalk for vehicular travel, they can have their automobile moved from the street onto the pavement. First, the furson calls the number of one of the offices of Mouse London's local Mobility Service, & a crew is dispatched to the assigned area, where they proceed to place a window-washing scaffold on the side of the curb. The furson's automobile is then moved onto the scaffold, & the Mobility Service crew members use paw-cranked winches to bring the makeshift lift up to the level of the sidewalk; after that, the furson's automobile is brought out onto the pavement, & made ready for use...

..._or_, if possible, a street-driver can park his / her automobile in one of many pint-sized parking garages—large, hollowed-out areas in the sidewalk-curbs that have holes drilled in at the top, so that rodents may take a staircase or elevator leading up to one of the mouse buildings above.

And one last note regarding rodential driving: In the mouse world, one _always_ drives on the right side of the road...as mandated by Queen Mousetoria, President William McKingsberg, Emperor Kurosawa Tenshi, Kaiser Wilhelm II, Czar Nicholas Romano, the Maharajah Of Bengistan, Queen Liliuokalani, Eva & Juan Ratón, & the rulers of all other mouse countries, colonies, & territorial possessions in the article pertaining to travel & transportation in the International Rodential Assimilation Treaty Of 1897.

[5] In the film version of GMD 2, my fanfic character Fanny Marlow is supposed to make a cameo as the beggar mousette. However, since that technically goes against the "rules" established by my personal fanon, that isn't the case for the fanfiction version of the story.

[6] Although you won't really notice this until you read later chapters, I turned the "only foot" joke into a running gag for this sequel.

[7] One of my candidates for Ratigan's stand-in voice (don't think of it as a replacement, per se) in the film version of GMD 2 is Malcolm McDowell (who I also envision providing the voice of Shellington Batly, along with several bit roles). And that is why I made the first half of the "poor place" sequence one big tribute to one of my favorite Malcolm McDowell movies, "_O, Lucky Man!_".

[8] According to the GMD Disney Classics storybook, Basil's house was located on a hill. However, since the film doesn't show Sherlock Holmes' house on any hilly terrain, I surmise that the building (& the surrounding area) was actually _near_ a hill.

[9] I assume that's what Basil does with his necktie, anyway. I swear, every time he wears his mouse detective uniform, the tie looks blue to me for some reason, & when he wears his robe & house attire, the tie looks turquoise. Go figure.

[10] Just so you know, I also decided to make a running gag that involves Basil blushing whenever a girl kisses him. Prepare to get plenty of giggles out of that!

[11] I simply _had_ to write that part, as I couldn't resist going for a touch of humor. Hopefully, that gave you a few laughs.

[12] As previously mentioned in Chapter 3, my estimate for Ratigan's age at the time of the movie is—believe it or not—17. And if Ratigan is 11 years Basil's junior (going by the logic of this story), that would make Basil 28 at the time of the original GMD.

[13] Yet another reference to the original "Basil Of Baker Street" book series by Eve Titus.

[14] According to the GMD Disney Classics storybook, Olivia was turning 10 years old on the eve of Queen Mousetoria's Diamond Jubilee. Thus, that is my estimate for her age at the time of the original movie (& the majority of the sequel).

[15] We mustn't forget that there are liberals & conservatives of _every_ faith, no matter where their religious doctrine lies.

[16] Yes, Basil's family has been living at Baker Street for that long... XD

[17] One of two rodential equivalents of "(don't) look a gift horse in the mouth". (The other is "[don't] look a gift miniature horse in the mouth".)

[18] The scene with the dancing doll was actually done on the spur of the moment; I wanted to find a way to smoothly progress from Basil's hallway encounter with Olivia, to Olivia's revelation of the Flavershams' rescue from the muggers. At the same time, I also wanted to give Basil & Olivia a chance to do some extra bonding with one another.

[19] It is my understanding that stuffed bears _technically_ did exist in the Victorian Age / (Old) Mousetorian Age; if you look closely, you can even see a teddy bear in the opening scene & "humans' toy store" sequence in the original GMD. But, strictly speaking, the humans didn't start calling them "teddy bears" until later on (at least, as far as our version of history goes). As for the mouse world, however, I'd like to think that rodents got a head start on using the name.

[20] One of the differences between the final version of the GMD 2 story, & previous drafts, is that Basil is having a bit of difficulty getting adjusted to his new role as a father-figure to his young wards. Of course, he'll eventually get the hang of telling bedtime stories (along with other "fatherly" duties)...but I thought Basil's fursonal transformation would come across as a lot more believable if I portrayed him having some problems in the process.

[21] Another blessing of the Neo-Mousetorian Age / Month Of Change: the Clapper!


End file.
